mw^f^^^^^W^ 


SICILY  IN   SHADOW   AND   IN  SUN 


Books  on  Italy  and  Spain 

By  MAUD   HOWE 

ROMA  BEAT.\.  Letters  from  the  Eternal  City. 
With  illustrations  from  drawings  by  John 
Elliott  and  from  photographs.  8vo.  In  box. 
$2.50  nef.  Popular  Illustrated  Edition.  Crown 
8vo.    In  box.    $1.50  net. 

TWO  IN  ITALY.  Popular  Illustrated  Edition. 
With  six  full-page  drawings  by  John  Elliott. 
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SUN  AND  SHADOW  IN  SPAIN.  With  four 
plates  in  color  and  other  illustrations.  8vo. 
In  box.    $3.00  net. 

SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND  IN  SUN.  With 
twelve  pictures  from  original  drawings  and 
numerous  illustrations  from  photographs 
taken  by  John  Elliott.  8vo.  In  box.  $3.00 
net. 


LITTLE,    BROWN,    &    CO.,    Publishers 
34  BEACON  STREET,  BOSTON 


■■:^:;^\ 


I 


■■lilt  i»?%'i^'-  Lv.  :t  1-      J-  •^sTi-i^f-'-^ " 


THE  TELL  TALE  TOWER.     Frontispiece. 
The  clock  stepped  at  the  hour  of  the  earthquake. 


^ICILY  IN  SHADOW 

AND  IN  SUN. 

THE    EARTHQUAKE    AND    THE 
AMERICAN   RELIEF   WORK 

BY      '' 

MAUD  HOWE 

AUTHOR    OF    "  ROMA   BEATA,"      "  SUN    AND    SHADOW 
IN    SPAIN,"      "•TWO    IN   ITALY,"    ETC. 


With  numerous   illustrations 

Including  pictures  from  photographs  taken 
in  Sicily  and  original  drawings  by 

JOHN  ELLIOTT 


BOSTON 

LITTLE,    BROWN,    AND    COMPANY 

1910 


/v^^ 


Copyright,  1910, 
Bt   Little,  Browk,  and  Company. 

All  rights  reserved 


Published,  November,  1910. 


LOUIS   E.    CROSSCUP 

Printer 
Boiton,  Mass.,  U.  S.  A. 


TO 

MRS.  LLOYD   C.   GRISCOM 


FOREWORD 

Sicily,  the  "  Four  Corners  "  of  that  little 
ancient  world  that  was  bounded  on  the  west  by 
the  Pillars  of  Hercules,  is  to  southern  Europe 
what  Britain  is  to  northern  Europe,  Chief  of 
Isles,  universal  Cross-roads.  Sicily  lies  nearer 
both  to  Africa  and  to  Europe  than  any  other 
Mediterranean  island,  and  is  the  true  connect- 
ing link  between  East  and  West.  Battle-ground 
of  contending  races  and  creeds,  it  has  been 
soaked  over  and  over  again  in  the  blood  of  the 
strong  men  who  fought  each  other  for  its  pos- 
session. There  has  never  been  a  Sicilian  nation. 
Perhaps  that  is  the  reason  the  story  of  the  island 
is  so  hard  to  follow,  it's  all  snarled  up  with  the 
history  of  first  one,  then  another  nation.  The 
most  obvious  way  of  learning  something  about 
Sicily  is  to  read  what  historians  have  to  say 
about  it;  a  pleasanter  way  is  to  listen  to  what 
the  poets  from  Homer  to  Goethe  have  sung  of 
it,  paying  special  heed  to  Theocritus  —  he 
knew  Sicily  better  than  anybody  else  before  his 
time    or    since!    Then    there's    the    geologist's 

vii 


FOREWORD 

story  —  you  can't  spare  that ;  it's  the  key  to  all 
the  rest.  The  best  way  of  all  is  to  go  to  Sicily, 
and  there  fit  together  what  little  bits  of  knowl- 
edge you  have  or  can  lay  your  hands  upon,  — 
scraps  of  history,  poetry,  geology.  You  will 
be  surprised  how  well  the  different  parts  of  the 
picture-puzzle,  now  knocking  about  loose  in 
your  mind,  will  fit  together,  and  what  a  good 
picture,  once  put  together,  they  will  give  you 
of  Sicily. 

When  a  child  in  the  nursery,  you  learned  the 
story  of  the  earliest  time!  How  Kronos  threw 
down  his  scythe,  and  it  sank  into  the  earth  and 
made  the  harbor  of  Messina.  (The  geologists 
hint  that  the  wonderful  round,  land-locked 
harbor  is  the  crater  of  a  sunken  volcano,  but 
you  and  I  cling  to  the  legend  of  Kronos.)  In 
that  golden  age  of  childhood,  you  learned  the 
story  of  the  burning  mountain,  Etna,  and  went 
wandering  through  the  purple  fields  of  Sicily 
with  Demeter,  seeking  her  lost  daughter,  Perse- 
phone. You  raced  with  Ulysses  and  his  men  from 
the  angry  Cyclops  down  to  that  lovely  shore, 
put  out  to  sea  with  them,  and  felt  the  boat 
whirled  from  its  course  and  twisted  like  a  leaf 
in  the  whirlpool  current  of  Charybdis.     When 

viii 


FOREWORD 

you  left  the  nursery  for  the  schoolroom,  you 
learned  the  names  of  the  succeeding  nations 
that  have  ruled  Sicily,  every  one  of  whom  has 
left  some  enduring  trace  of  their  presence.  As 
you  cross  from  the  mainland  of  Italy  to  this 
Sicily,  you  can,  if  you  will  use  your  memory  and 
imagination,  see  in  fancy  the  hosts  who  have 
crossed  before  you,  eager,  as  you  are,  to  make 
this  jewel  of  the  south  their  own. 

First  of  all,  look  for  the  Sicans ;  some  say  they 
are  of  the  same  pre-Aryan  race  as  the  Basques. 
After  the  Sicans  come  the  Sikels.  They  are 
Latins,  people  we  feel  quite  at  home  with;  their 
coming  marks  the  time  when  the  age  of  fable 
ends  and  history  begins.  Next  come  the  Phoeni- 
cians, the  great  traders  of  the  world,  bringing 
the  rich  gift  of  commerce.  They  set  up  their 
trading  stations  near  the  coasts,  as  they  did  in 
Spain,  and  bartered  with  the  natives  —  a  peace- 
ful people  —  as  they  bartered  with  the  Iberians 
of  the  Peninsula.  The  real  fighting  began  when 
the  Greeks  came,  bringing  their  great  gift  of 
Art.  Sicily  now  became  part  of  Magna  Graecia, 
and  rose  to  its  apogee  of  power  and  glory. 
Syracuse  was  the  chief  of  the  Greek  cities  of 
Sicily.     The  Greek  rulers  were  called  Tyrants. 

ix 


FOREWORD 

They  were  great  rulers  indeed;  the  greatest 
of  them,  Dionysius,  ruled  406  b.  c.  Then  came 
the  heavy-handed  Romans  and  the  first  glory 
of  Sicily  was  at  end.  The  Romans  made  a 
granary  of  Sicily  and  carried  off  its  treasures 
to  adorn  imperial  Rome.  They  stayed  a  long 
time,  but  with  the  crumbling  of  the  Roman 
Empire  there  came  a  change  in  Sicily,  the  first 
Roman  province,  and  for  a  time  the  Goths  and 
the  Byzantines  ruled  her.  Then  came  the 
Saracens.  They  destroyed  Syracuse  and  made 
a  new  capital,  Palermo,  that  from  their  time  to 
ours  has  remained  the  chief  city  of  the  island. 
After  the  Saracens  came  the  Normans  —  the 
same  generation  of  men  that  subdued  England 
under  William  the  Conqueror,  —  and  gave  to 
Sicily  a  second  period  of  greatness;  for  if  the 
Greeks  gave  Sicily  her  Golden  Age,  the  Norman 
age  at  least  was  Silver  Gilt.  The  French  came 
too,  but  their  stay  was  short,  their  reign  in- 
glorious; it  is  chiefly  remembered  on  account 
of  the  massacre  of  the  Sicilian  Vespers,  when 
the  Sicilians  rose,  drove  out  their  conquerors, 
and  drenched  the  land  in  French  blood.  In 
the  early  part  of  the  fifteenth  century,  Spain, 
who  was  beginning  her  age  of  conquest,  con- 

X 


FOREWORD 

quered  Sicily  and  held  it  subject  for  more  than 
four  hundred  years.  Finally,  in  the  year  1860, 
came  Garibaldi,  and  reunited  Sicily  to  Italy. 
Geologically,  Sicily  has  been  as  restless  as  it 
has  been  politically  and  socially.  At  least 
twice  it  was  connected  with  Italy,  and  once 
probably  with  Africa,  so  that  African  animals 
entered  it.  The  Straits  of  Messina,  only  two 
miles  wide,  and  one  hundred  and  fifty  fathoms 
deep,  are  Nature's  record  of  an  earthquake 
rupture  between  Italy  and  Sicily.  Mount  Etna, 
the  most  impressive  thing  in  the  island,  has  been 
there  since  early  tertiary  times  —  before  the 
days  of  the  ice-age,  when  the  mammoth 
and  cave-bear  roamed  through  the  woods  of 
Europe.  It  is  probably  a  younger  mountain  than 
Vesuvius,  but  long  before  the  dawn  of  history 
Sicily  and  Calabria  were  the  prey  of  the  earth- 
quake and  the  volcano.  The  Straits  of  Mes- 
sina and  Mount  Etna  are  both  the  results  of 
earthquake  activity.  The  Straits  are  a  gigan- 
tic crevice  in  the  earth;  the  volcano  is  only  a 
tear  in  the  earth's  crust,  so  deep  that  the  hot 
steam  of  the  interior  of  the  earth  rises  from  the 
ever  open  rupture.  Etna,  therefore,  is  not  the 
cause  of  earthquake,  but  is  itself  the  child  of 

xi 


FOREWORD 

an  earthquake.  It  sprang,  a  full-grown  moun- 
tain, from  the  breast  of  earth,  as  Pallas  from  the 
brain  of  Zeus.  Etna  was  probably  far  larger 
once  than  it  is  now.  The  present  cone  rests 
on  a  volcanic  plateau,  that  appears  to  have  been 
the  base  of  a  larger  cone,  which  was  blown  to 
atoms.  The  old  mountain  is  full  of  cracks  which 
are  filled  with  hard  basalt  that  cements  it  to- 
gether. Its  explosive  tendency  causes  it  to 
give  rise  to  a  great  many  little  cones  upon  the 
sides,  called  parasitic  cones,  which  burst  forth 
suddenly  almost  anywhere. 

Historian,  poet,  geologist,  each  tells  his  story, 
but  the  poet  tells  it  best  of  all.  There  is  no 
better  description  of  Sicily  and  its  people  than 
the  one  you  will  find  in  the  Odyssey. 

"  They  all  their  products  to  free  Nature  owe, 
The  soil  untilled,  a  ready  harvest  yields, 
With  wheat  and  barley  wave  the  golden  fields, 
Spontaneous  wines  from  weighty  clusters  pour, 
And  Jove  descends  in  each  prolific  shower. 
By  these  no  statutes  and  no  rights  are  known. 
No  council  held,  no  monarch  fills  the  throne; 

Each  rules  his  race,  his  neighbor  not  his  care, 
Heedless  of  others,  to  his  own  severe." 

— Homer's  Odyssey,  translated  by  Pope. 


xn 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

I.  Messina  Destroyed 1 

II.  The  Straits  of  Death 39 

III.  America  to  the  Rescue 77 

IV.  The  Cruise  of  the  "  Bayern  "         .        .        .116 
V.  Royal  Visitors 161 

Yl.  At  Palazzo  Margherita 191 

VII.  Building  the  New  Messina        ....  217 

VIII.  The  Camp  by  Torrente  Zaera  ....  248 

IX.  Guests  at  Camp 269 

X.  The  Villaggio  Regina  Elena    ....  293 

XI.  Taormina 312 

XII.  Syracuse 344 

XIII.  Palermo 377 

XIV.  Mr.  Roosevelt  at  Messina         ....  427 
XV.  Easter 446 

XVI.  Messina  (Ave  atque  Vale!)       ....  466 


LIST   OF    ILLUSTRATIONS 


The  Tell  Tale  Tower Frontispiece 

Facing  Page 

RxuNS  OP  THE  American  Consulate,   ^Messina     ....  20 

MissiNA.    The  Torrente  Zaera 244 

Reggio.    Queen  Elena's  Group  of  American  Cott.\ges  .        .  248 
Hotel  Regina  Elena  and  Church  of  Santa  Croce,  American 

Village,  Messina 282 

Messina.    American  Cottages,  Villaggio  Regina  Elena  .        .  304 

Viale  Griscom,  American  Vill.\ge,  Messina        ....  436 

A  Makeshift  Church  and  Belfry 448 

Pay-Window  and  the  Archbishop's  Bell 454 

SCYLLA 468 

Via  Belknap,  American  Village,  ISIessina 472 

Euz.'LBETh  Gri.scom  Hospit-u.,  Villaggio  Regina  Elena      .       .  476 

Ullugtrationjf  from  ^fjotograpfjg 

Messina  in  Flames 10 

The  Municipio  in  Flames,  Messina 10 

Rescxte  Party  of  Russian  Sailors 11 

The  Palazzata,  Messina 11 

The  Water  Front,  Messina 40 

A  Funeral  Barge 41 

The  King  and  the  Wounded  Officer 41 

The  B.arracks,  Messina 44 

Ruins  of  a  Church,  Messina 44 

Digging  for  the  Buried-Alive                45 

The  King  at  Messina 45 

XV 


LIST   OF   ILLUSTRATIONS 


Messina.    The  Cathedral  Before  the  Dis.\ster 

The  Cathedral,  After  the  Disaster 

Aecangelo's  H0U8E 

Messina.     Where  Marietta  Lived 

Stromboli  from  the  "Bayern" 

The  Americ^jnt  Ambassador  and  Red  Cross  Nurses  on  the 
"Bayern" 

Italian  Milit.\ry  Encampment,  Messina 

Italian  Officers  and  Men,  Mf^sina 

Messina.    A  House  that  Escaped  Destruction 

Soldiers  on  their  Way  to  a  Rescue 

The  Military  College,  Messina 

Palace  of  the  Prefect,  Messina 

Tenente  di  Vascello  Alfredo  Brofferio 

Lieutenant  Commander  Reginald  Rowan  Belknap,  L^".  S.  N. 

W'reck  of  Railroad,  Reggio 

Street  in  Reggio 

Grand  Hotel  Regina  Elena,  American  Village,  Messina 

Arrival  of  the  "Eva" 

rR.\AiE  of  First  House,  American  Village,  Messina 
Lieutenant  Commander  Belicnap  putting  the  American  Camp 

in  Commission 

Hauling  up  the  Colors,  American  Village,  Messina 

Messina.     Via  I.  Settembre 

The  Cathedral,  Palmi 

Messina.  Arrival  of  Furniture  for  American  Cottages 
American  Village,  Messina.  Via  Bicknell,  First  Street 
Stragglers  from  the  Herd,  American  Camp,  Messina 
In  the  American  Village,  Messina        .... 

awocato  donati 

Mr.  Buchanan's  Boy  and  His  Mates 

Quitting  Work 

Arrival  of  the  Barber      .... 
Workshop  of  American  Village,  Reggio 
First  American  House  in  Reggio    . 
American  Shelters,  Palmi 
Reggio.     Carpenters  at  Work 
Olive  Grove  near  Palmi    .... 
Captain  Belknap  .^.nd  Carpenter  Faust 


50 
50 
51 
51 
114 

114 
115 
115 
130 
130 
131 
131 
222 
222 
223 
223 
226 
227 
227 

240 
240 
241 
241 
252 
252 
253 
253 
258 
258 
259 
259 
266 
266 
267 
267 
276 
277 


XVl 


LIST    OF   ILLUSTRATIONS 

View  from  the  Hotel,  American  Village,  Messina                 .  277 

AMERiC-'iJs-  Village,  Messina.    The  Pay  Line        ....  286 

"The  FRONT  OF  THE  P.U^A.CE  HAD  FALLEN  INTO  A  HE.\P  OF  RONS"     .  287 

Church  of  Ol-r  L.ujy  of  the  Poor,  Seminara     ....  287 

ZlA  ^LvDD.AiENA  AND  HeR  F.^MILY  308 

CaPT.UN  BiGN.AJJI  AND  His  St.vff 308 

G.\sparone  AND  Water  Boys  in  Hotel  Col-rty.^d,  Messina  309 

ROAD-MAKlNG  IN  THE  AMERICAN  VlLL.^GE,  MeSSINA  309 

American  Qu.\rter.  Messina 312 

An  Eruption  of  Mt.  Etna 313 

The  Road  to  TAORiiiNA 313 

Mt.  Etna  from  T.\ormina :       .        .  324 

Example  OF  SiciLi.\N  Gothic  Architecture,  Taormina        .        .  324 

Choir  Stalls,  S.of  Domenico,  Taormina 325 

Friar  Joseph's  Missal 325 

Fort  Eltiyelus,  Syr-vcuse 352 

Example  of  SiCTLiAN  Gothic  Architecture,  Syracuse.  352 

GiRGENTi.    A  Wine  Cart 353 

GiRGENTi.    A  Sicilian  Cart 353 

Church  of  S.\n  Giovants'i,  Syr.\cuse 360 

The-vtre,  Palerjio 360 

Etruscan  S.\rcophagus,  P.axermo  Museum 361 

In  the  Museum,  Palermo 361 

Villa  Tasca,  Pai.ermo 376 

Villa  d'Orle.vns,  P.vlermo 876 

Fountain  of  the  Pretoria,  Palermo 377 

Chl-rch  of  S.^-  Giov.^nni,  P.^lermo 377 

Tower  of  the  ^Lajitor-^na,  P.\lermo 390 

Water  Carriers,  Taormina 390 

Church  of  the  ]\L\rtor-\na,  Palermo 391 

P.\LERM0.      C.U'ELL-A.  P.tL.\TIN.\ 391 

MoN*RE.\LE 396 

The  Royal  Palace,  Palermo 397 

The  Cathedr-vl,  P.\lermo 397 

Reab.  of  the  Cathedr.\l,  Monreale 400 

The  Cathedral,  Montieale.    Tombs  of  Willi.\m  I.  .vn'd  Wil- 

Li.\ii  II 400 

Monte  Pellegrino,  P.ylermo 401 

Facade  of  the  Cathedral,  Monre.u,e 401 

xvii 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 

Interior  of  the  Cathedral,  Monbeale 404 

MoNREALE.    The  Cloisters 404 

Bronze  Door  of  the  Cathedral,  Monreale      ....  405 

The  Arab  Fountain,  Monreale 405 

Palermo.    The  Quattro  Canti 432 

Palermo.    The  Marina 432 

American  Village,  Messina.    The  Celtic's  Carpenter  Cook 

AND  TWO  "Scorpions"  measijring  off  the  Land  .  .  433 
Wing  of  the  Elizabeth  Griscom  Hospital,  Villaggio  Regina 

Elena .  433 

The  King,  escorted  by  Buchanan,  Brofferio  and  Eluott, 

visits  American  Village 440 

Mbssina.     Painting  the  American  Cottages      ....  440 

ChurchopSantaCroce,  American  Village,  Messina         .  441 

Hotel  in  Construction,  American  Village,  Messina         .  464 

Enclosing  Gang  at  Work 464 

Grand  Hotel  Regina  Elena  from  the  Railroad  .       .       .  465 

View  from  the  Hotel,  American  Village,  Messina      .       .       .  465 

Grand  Hotel  Regina  Elena  and  Church  of  Santa  Ceoce         .  480 


Map  of  Sicilt 


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Sicily  in  Shadow  and  in  Sun 


MESSINA    DESTROYED 

Monday  evening,  December  28th,  1908,  four 
friends  were  dining  together  in  a  luxurious 
Roman  villa.  The  hostess.  Vera,  sat  opposite 
me  at  the  head  of  her  table  with  Lombardi, 
the  Milanese  mathematician  on  one  side,  and 
Athol,  an  Englishman,  the  representative  of  a 
great  English  newspaper,  on  the  other.  It  was 
our  first  meeting  that  season.  Vera,  who  had 
passed  the  summer  at  home  in  Russia,  had  just 
returned  to  Rome;  I  had  arrived  three  days 
before  on  Christmas  evening.  We  were  all 
really  glad  to  see  one  another,  eager  to  hear  the 
other's  news  and  to  give  our  own.  The  dinner 
was  a  triumph!  Attilio,  the  Neapolitan  chef, 
had  outdone  himself;  the  pheasant  in  aspic 
was  an  inspiration,  though  the  dish  may  have 
been  prepared  from  a  receipt  known  to  the  cook 

1 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND  IN  SUN 

of  Lucullus.  Whatever  decline  other  arts  may 
show,  the  culinary  art  of  Rome  has  lost  nothing 
since  the  days  of  the  famous  banquets  in  the 
gardens  of  Sallust.  Vera's  table  was  laid  with 
the  robin's-egg  Sevres  service,  the  Copenhagen 
glass  with  its  gilt  borders,  and  the  gold  plate 
that  had  belonged  to  Cardinal  Antonelli.  In 
the  middle  stood  an  exquisitely  wrought  silver 
partridge,  Vera's  own  work,  modelled  and 
hammered  out  of  silver  by  that  strong  small 
hand,  the  speaking  hand  of  the  artist,  that  now 
sparkled  with  jewels  as  she  raised  her  glass  of 
Orvieto  and  drank  to  our  next  meeting.  After 
dinner  we  drew  our  chairs  round  the  library 
fire  where  the  tiny  Roman  Yule  logs  blazed 
cheerily  on  the  hearth.  It  was  extraordinarily 
cold  for  Rome;  the  thick  fur  of  the  great  white 
polar  bear  skin  before  the  fire  was  comforting 
to  our  chilled  feet.  Outside  on  the  terrace  a 
dog  bayed. 

"  Open  the  door  and  let  Romulus  in,"  said 
Vera.  "It's  very  wrong  of  course  —  a  watch- 
dog ought  to  sleep  in  his  little  cold  house  —  but 
I  haven't  the  heart  to  leave  even  a  dog  out  on 
such  a  night." 

"  It's  the  coldest  season  we  have  ever  known 

2 


MESSINA  DESTROYED 

in  Italy,**  Lombardi  remarked.  We  all  shivered 
in  the  piercing  gust  that  came  from  the  open 
door  as  a  shambling  uncouth  white  puppy 
tumbled,  capering  with  joy,  into  the  room.  He 
was  a  foundling  from  the  campagna,  lost, 
strayed  or  stolen  from  his  sheep-dog  kin,  and 
adopted  by  Vera.  His  rough  ugliness  em- 
phasized the  refinement  of  the  violet-scented 
villa  where  a  crumpled  roseleaf  would  have 
hurt. 

As  we  drank  our  coffee,  the  dog  nuzzling  Vera's 
satin  slipper  with  little  sounds  of  joy,  a  servant 
brought  in  the  evening  papers  and  handed  them 
to  Lombardi  —  I  can  see  him  now  standing 
before  the  fire,  unfolding  the  Tribuna  and 
glancing  at  the  headlines;  I  can  smell  the  damp 
printer's  ink. 

"  Any  news?  '*  asked  Vera. 

"  There  has  been  an  earthquake  in  Calabria.*' 

The  Englishman  nodded;  he  had  heard  it,  he 
always  heard  the  news  before  the  rest  of  us! 

"Another  earthquake!  Not  a  bad  one.^  ** 
I  cried. 

"  The  paper  naturally  makes  the  most  of 
it,  though  it  does  not  seem  to  have  done  much 
damage,*'  Athol  reassured  us. 

3 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND  IN  SUN 

"Poor  people,  how  they  have  suffered!" 
Vera  sighed  comfortably.  After  a  few  more 
comments  the  subject  was  dropped  and  we 
began  again  to  abuse  the  powers  that  be  for 
the  shocking  breaches  that  have  been  made  in 
the  ancient  walls  of  Rome.  Bits  of  our  talk 
come  back  to  me  now  as  from  an  immeasurable 
distance.  It  is  as  if  that  conversation  over  the 
fire  in  Vera's  library  had  taken  place  in  another 
planet  during  another  existence. 

"  The  wall  that  Belisarius  defended  fifteen 
hundred  years  ago  against  the  Goths  without 
the  gates  has  been  demolished  by  the  Goths 
within  the  gates!  "  exclaimed  Athol. 

"  It's  a  world's  crime,"  I  said,  "  because 
Rome  belongs  to  the  world;  it's  just  as  much 
ours  as  the  Italians'!  " 

"Ah!  so  you  like  to  think!  "  said  the  only 
Italian  present,  indulgently. 

"  I  have  heard  you  say  it  yourself,  Lombardi, 
when  you  wanted  something  of  us  outlanders,'* 
Athol  came  to  my  rescue. 

"  Remember,  the  petition  to  have  the  streets 
put  through  was  got  up  by  an  Englishman, 
who  owned  property  near  by  that  he  thought 
would  be  improved,"  Vera  defended. 

4 


MESSINA  DESTROYED 

The  talk  drifted  from  one  archaeological  matter 
to  another.  Athol  told  us  of  Boni's  last  dis- 
coveries in  the  Forum,  the  tombs  under  Trajan's 
column;  the  "  finds  "  made  by  Goclaire,  the 
Frenchman,  on  the  Gianiculum;  why  the  exca- 
vation at  Herculaneum  had  been  given  up :  — 
The  peasant  owners  of  the  land,  seeing  so 
much  said  about  it  in  the  papers,  believe  their 
land  covers  priceless  treasures,  and  will  not 
allow  a  spade  to  be  put  into  the  earth  until  a 
vast  sum  of  money  is  deposited  beforehand  to 
indemnify  them  for  the  buried  treasure  that 
may  be  found.  Though  the  talk  veered  lightly 
from  one  subject  to  another,  it  always  came 
back  to  Pompeii  and  Herculaneum,  to  that 
old,  old  disaster,  that  volcanic  horror  of  nineteen 
centuries  ago,  and  yet  at  that  very  moment, 
though  we  did  not  know  it,  a  worse  devastation 
had  again  laid  waste  the  beautiful  treacherous 
land  of  southern  Italy. 

The  party  broke  up  in  high  spirits.  Vera, 
followed  by  the  ecstatic  puppy,  came  into  the 
hall  with  us.  I  see  her  vivid  face,  her  white 
and  silver  dress,  as  she  stood  below  the  enormous 
Russian  bear  that  eternally  climbs  a  pine  tree 
in  her  vestibule;  I  can  see  the  gay  graceful 

5 


SICILY   IN  SHADOW  AND  IN  SUN 

gesture  of  her  hand  as  she  waves  us  a  last 
good  night. 

The  moment's  uneasiness  that  had  fallen 
upon  us  when  Lombardi  spoke  of  the  earthquake 
in  Calabria  was  forgotten.  If  they  are  short 
of  news,  the  Roman  papers  publish  rumors 
of  the  Pope's  illness,  an  earthquake  in  Calabria, 
or  war  between  Germany  and  France,  with 
strict  impartiality.  It  was  the  old  story  of 
"  wolf,  wolf."  We  were  as  deaf  to  the  first 
rumble  of  the  storm,  as  a  few  days  before  we 
had  been  deaf  to  the  last  war  scare. 

Nothing  but  a  death  in  the  house  has  ever 
made  so  sharp  a  difference  as  I  knew  between 
the  evening  of  the  28th  of  December  and  the 
morning  of  the  29th,  for  it  was  only  on  Tuesday, 
the  day  after  the  earthquake,  that  we  in  Rome 
began  to  understand  —  but  only  began  to  un- 
derstand —  that  the  greatest  disaster  of  Euro- 
pean history  had  stricken  Italy,  our  Italy,  the 
world's  beloved.  To  each  of  us  our  own  country 
is  really  dearest;  we  hope  to  die  and  lay  our 
bones  in  the  land  where  we  were  born.  But 
Italy,  like  a  lover,  for  a  time  makes  us  forget 
home,  kin,  native  land,  in  an  infatuation  heady 
and   unreasonable  as  lover's  love.     The  spell 

6 


MESSINA  DESTROYED 

may  be  broken,  never  forgotten.  This  is  the 
reason  the  whole  civilized  world  not  only- 
shuddered,  but  suffered  with  Italy  in  the  dark 
hour  as  it  could  have  suffered  for  no  other 
country. 

The  first  news  came  from  Catanzaro,  Men- 
teleone,  and  the  other  least  damaged  districts. 
Messina  and  Reggio  were  silent;  their  silence 
was  ominous.  Tuesday  was  a  day  of  fear  and 
restlessness.  We  lived  from  hour  to  hour, 
waiting  for  the  extra  editions  of  the  papers, 
hoping,  always  hoping,  that  the  rumors  that 
every  moment  grew  more  grave  might  prove 
exaggerated. 

*'  Calabria  and  Sicily  flagellated  by  earth- 
quake. Enormous  damage.  Towns  in  ruins, 
many  dead  and  wounded.  A  tidal  wave  on 
the  coast  of  Sicily,"  such  were  the  headlines 
of  the  first  editions.  Later  came  the  dreadful 
news:     "  Messina  and  Reggio  destroyed!  " 

In  the  Corso  I  met  Athol.  He  had  been  very 
ill  in  bed  but  had  struggled  out  to  do  his 
duty,  to  weigh  the  news,  sift  truth  from  rumor, 
flash  the  dreadful  tidings  to  the  earth's  end. 

"  How  much  must  we  believe.^  "  I  asked 
him. 

7 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND  IN  SUN 

"  Such  reports  are  always  exaggerated  at 
first,"  he  answered. 

We  soon  learned  the  first  reports  did  not 
begin  to  tell  the  story. 

*'  Earthquake?  It  is  the  end  of  the  world!  " 
people  said  to  each  other.  As  rumor  grew  to 
certainty,  fear  to  dreadful  fact,  the  effect 
upon  our  minds  was  very  curious;  nothing  that 
concerned  our  private  affairs  seemed  of  any 
consequence.  This  was  equally  true  of  our 
friends,  most  of  whom  were  like  ourselves, 
foreigners  in  Italy.  The  day  after  the  dinner 
party  I  dropped  into  Vera's  studio.  The 
Signorina  had  not  come  in,  Beppino,  the  model, 
told  me;  he  had  never  known  such  a  thing 
happen  before.  The  clay  was  dry  and  greatly 
in  need  of  being  dampened.  He  was  forbidden 
to  lift  the  sheet  that  covered  the  statue  and 
dared  not  do  so.     If  I  were  not  afraid  .^^  — 

Afraid.^  What  did  it  matter?  I  committed 
the  unpardonable  sin,  stripped  off  the  sheet, 
and  with  the  big  syringe  wetted  down  the  grey 
clay  of  that  statue  of  Vera's  we  had  all  been 
so  curious  about.  Her  well-kept  secret  was 
before  me,  but  I  only  know  that  it  was  a  female 

figure,  whether  a  Psyche  or  a  Niobe  I  neither 

8 


MESSINA  DESTROYED 

knew  or  cared,  nor  whether  it  was  good,  bad, 
or  indifferent.  Vera  had  only  a  week  to  finish 
the  statue  that  was  to  compete  for  the  prize  she 
had  strained  every  nerve  to  win.  Three  times 
I  wetted  down  the  clay  for  my  friend;  after 
that  I  forgot  it  and  the  statue  fell  to  pieces. 
Vera  had  other  work  to  do,  and  so  had  I.  We 
ourselves  were  at  rather  an  important  juncture 
in  our  lives.  J.  had  just  finished  his  decorative 
painting,  Diana  of  the  Tides,  for  the  Smith- 
sonian Institute  in  Washington;  he  was  on 
the  point  of  sending  out  cards  for  his  exhibition. 
All  this  was  swept  into  the  background  of  our 
thoughts.  We  lived  only  for  tidings  of  the 
South.  All  day  long  we  could  only  speak,  only 
think  of  Calabria  and  Sicily.  At  night  we  only 
slept  to  dream  of  them,  to  wake  from  the 
terror  of  the  nightmare  to  the  greater  terror 
of  the  reality,  and  then  to  sleep  painfully  again. 
A  feverish  desire  to  do  something,  to  be  of  some 
use,  seemed  to  drive  us  and  all  the  iVmericans 
and  English  we  saw.  Inaction  became  in- 
tolerable; we  were  scourged  by  pity  and  sorrow 
into  some  sort  of  doing,  whether  it  was  of  any 
use  or  not. 

Athol  alone  of  all  our  intimates  stood  steady 

9 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND  IN  SUN 

at  his  post,  his  finger  on  the  pulse  of  Europe. 
His  work  was  quadrupled.  Instead  of  being 
jarred  and  thrown  off  the  track  like  the  rest 
of  us,  he  toiled  day  and  night,  sometimes  with- 
out sleep,  often  without  food,  in  order  that 
his  words  —  words  that  would  sway  a  nation, 
influence  a  world  —  should  be  the  wisest,  the 
best  words  that  it  was  possible  for  him  to  say. 

When  I  found  that  I  could  be  of  some  small 
use  (or  I  thought  I  could)  by  running  about 
picking  up  little  straws  of  news  for  Athol,  who 
was  sending  off  despatches  day  and  night,  I 
took  heart  and  felt  that  I  could  get  through 
the  day.  It  may  not  have  been  of  much  real 
use  to  him  or  to  Sicily  and  Calabria,  but  it  was 
of  use  to  me.  Besides,  the  most  infinitesimal 
thing  counts,  the  universe  is  built  of  atoms. 
For  these  stricken  people  to  have  their  story 
well  told  was  surely  something  It  was  a  little 
comfort  to  me,  it  gave  me  all  the  repose  of 
mind  I  knew  in  those  first  days  to  gather  these 
tiny  straws,  whether  or  no  they  were  woven 
into  the  texture  of  my  friend's  "  story."  It 
helped  me  to  bear  the  strain  if  it  did  not  help 
Athol  to  do  his  work. 

Day  and  night  the  cries  and  groans  of  those 

10 


'kM^''' 


■^^^■--l*^^|ft 


MESSINA  IN  FLAMES.     Page  7. 


MESSINA.     THE  MUNICIPIO  IN  FLAMES.     Page 


MESSINA.    RESCUE  PARTY  OF  RUSSIAN  SAILORS.    Page  36. 


MESSINA.     THE  PALAZZATA.     Page  41. 


MESSINA  DESTROYED 

sufferers  buried  alive  in  the  ruins  of  their 
houses  were  in  my  ears.  I  felt  their  pain  in 
my  bones,  in  my  brain,  in  my  heart.  I  breathed 
pain  with  every  breath  till  it  seemed  to  me  there 
was  nothing  but  pain  in  the  world.  When  notes 
of  invitation  to  dine  came  —  as  a  few  did  —  it 
seemed  an  insult  to  humanity  that  tables 
should  be  spread  with  rich  food  and  wine  while 
our  brothers  agonized  and  slowly,  slowly  starved 
to  death.  When  cards  were  left  with  the  usual 
wishes  for  Buon  Anno^  one  almost  laughed  at 
the  mockery  of  people  wishing  each  other 
Happy  New  Year.  For  the  most  part,  though, 
the  conventions  and  civilities  of  Rome  —  the 
most  civilized  of  cities  —  were  dropped.  People 
threw  their  social  duties  or  pleasures  to  the 
wind,  even  those  whose  whole  business  in 
life  seems  to  consist  of  leaving  the  proper 
number  of  cards,  making  the  proper  visits,  the 
exchange  of  banquets,  teas  and  other  formal 
courtesies.  Birth  and  death  a  ways  strip  away 
these  silly  rags  and  trimmings;  when  there  is 
such  a  harvest  of  death,  humanity,  even  the 
humanity  of  Rome,  perhaps  the  most  sophisti- 
cated place  in  the  world,  weeps  and  cowers  and 
stretches  out  to  touch  hands  with  any  hand 

11 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND  IN  SUN 

that  is  warm  and  living  and  in  which  the  pulses 
beat. 

Wednesday  morning  a  bugle  sounded  in  the 
street  under  our  windows.  I  looked  out  and 
saw  a  group  of  young  men  wearing  gay  fifteenth 
century  plush  caps,  and  on  their  arms  a  strip 
of  white  cloth  with  the  words  "  Pro  Calabria  e 
Sicilia "  in  red  letters.  The  bugle  sounded 
again.  I  knew  what  the  summons  meant, 
caught  up  the  pile  of  extra  clothing  I  had  sorted 
out,  snatched  an  overcoat  and  a  cloak  from 
the  rack  in  the  hall  and  ran  downstairs  into 
the  street.  I  was  immediately  surrounded  by 
half  a  dozen  lads  with  fresh  shining  schoolboy 
faces.  They  carried  between  them,  two  by 
two,  heavy  wooden  money  boxes  with  a  slit 
in  the  top,  which  they  rattled  and  offered  to  all 
who  passed. 

"  Who  are  these?  "  I  asked  the  tall  boy 
with  a  scarlet  cap  on  his  mop  of  brown  curls, 
who  relieved  me  of  the  coat  and  cloak. 

He  made  me  the  bow  of  a  prince  as  he  an- 
swered: "We  are  the  students  of  the  Uni- 
versity of  Rome,  Signora,  at  your  service." 

In  Italy,  an  old  country  where  we  find  that 
supreme  virtue  of  age,  thrift,  even  spendthrift 

12 


MESSINA   DESTROYED 

Americans  grow  cautious  about  spending  money. 
I  had  meant  to  put  a  few  sous  in  the  box,  but  the 
eager  eyes,  the  urgent  voices,  overcame  discre- 
tion. I  emptied  my  small  purse,  heavy  with  sil- 
ver for  the  day's  expenses,  into  the  first  money 
box  and  so  bought  the  sufferance  of  the  stu- 
dents. I  was  now  immune  from  other  de- 
mands and  free  to  follow  them  on  their  errand 
of  mercy. 

Another  trumpet  call  and  the  students,  laden 
with  gifts,  swarmed  like  honey  bees  to  the  hive 
about  the  lean  obelisk  in  the  Piazza  del  Popolo, 
just  outside  the  monastery  with  the  tall  cy- 
presses, in  whose  shade  Luther  paced,  deep  in 
the  thoughts  that  were  to  change  the  course  of 
history.  In  the  middle  of  the  piazza  stood 
forage  cart  number  24  of  the  13th  Regiment  of 
Artillery.  The  cart  was  drawn  by  two  big 
army  mules,  one  of  them  ridden  by  a  soldier. 
At  the  back  of  the  cart  sat  the  bugler,  a  hard, 
merry,  Irish-faced  man  with  a  snub  nose  and  a 
missing  tooth;  he  looked  a  living  proof  of 
Boni's  theory  that  the  Celts  and  the  Italians 
were  originally  of  the  same  race.  In  the  cart 
beside  the  bugler  stood  a  young  student  with 

soft  brown   eyes  and   the   rich  coloring  of  the 

13 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND  IN  SUN 

southern  Italian;  he  wore  an  orange  velvet  cap 
on  the  back  of  his  head  and  seemed  to  be 
chosen  for  his  beauty,  as  the  third  man  in  the 
cart  (a  rather  plain  shabby  fellow  with  a 
bandaged  throat)  had  been  chosen  for  his 
voice.  The  bugler  sounded  his  trumpet,  the 
driver  cracked  his  whip  and  the  procession 
started.  The  cart  was  closely  followed  by  two 
artillery  men  in  uniform  and  surrounded  by 
that  host  of  clustering  students,  busy  as  bees 
with  their  task  of  gathering  soldi. 

The  cart  passed  at  a  footpace  across  the 
Piazza  del  Popolo  under  the  shadow  of  the 
obelisk  that  Sixtus  the  Fifth,  the  great  building 
pope,  placed  in  the  middle  of  that  noble  square, 
which  lies  between  the  old  Flaminian  Way 
and  the  Corso.  The  cart  jogged  and  rumbled 
along  just  as  in  the  old  days  the  carnival  cars 
jogged  and  rumbled  over  the  rough  stone  pave- 
ment. The  bugler  sounded  his  call  again  as  the 
cart  turned  into  the  Corso;  the  gallant  notes 
stirred  the  souls  of  the  people.  When  the 
fiery  call  of  the  bugle  trailed  into  silence  the 
voice  of  the  tall  man  with  the  bandaged  throat 
rang  out  above  the  noise  of  the  crowd: 

"  Pro  Calabria  e  Sicilia!     Give  much,  give 

14 


MESSINA  DESTROYED 

little,  give  something!  Every  centesimo  is 
wanted  down  there!  " 

From  every  window  fell  an  obolo.  A  hail- 
storm of  coppers  rattled  on  the  pavement,  white 
envelopes  with  money  folded  in  them  came 
fluttering  down  like  so  many  white  birds.  Out- 
side the  Palazzo  Fiano,  where  the  Italian  flag 
tied  with  crape  hung  at  half  mast,  the  forage 
cart  halted.  At  an  open  window  on  the  top 
floor  two  sturdy  men  servants  appeared  and 
threw  down  a  red  striped  bundle  of  pillows, 
another  of  blankets,  a  third  a  great  packet  of 
clothes.  From  every  house,  rich  or  poor 
(there  are  many  poor  houses  in  the  Corso), 
came  some  offering.  Two  good  beds  were 
carried  out  from  a  narrow  door.  The  cart  was 
now  filling  fast,  the  money  boxes  were  growling 
heavy.  From  a  shabby  window  a  pair  of  black 
pantaloons  came  hurtling  through  the  air  and 
the  crowd,  strung  up  and  nervous  with  the 
tension  of  a  night  of  mourning  —  for  Rome 
mourned  as  I  had  never  believed  it  could  mourn 
for  anything  —  laughed  from  pure  nervous- 
ness. 

At  the  shop  of  A.  Pavia,  the  furrier,  on  the 

second  floor,  two  people  came  to  the  window, 

15 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND  IN  SUN 

an   elderly   woman   with   a  face   swollen   with 

weeping,  and  a  dark  man  who  looked  as  if  he 

had  not  slept.      The  cart  stopped  again,  and 

from  that  modest  shop  there  hailed  down  no 

less  than  twenty  warm  new  fur  coats  and  tippets 

—  and  this  in  Rome,  the  heart  of  thrift.     If 

I  had  not  seen  it  with  my  eyes  I  should  not 

have  believed  it.     At  Olivieri's,  the  grocer's,  a 

great    quantity  of    canned    meats,    vegetables 

and  groceries  were  handed  out.    From  a  hosier's 

near  by  came  two  great  packages  of  men's  shirts, 

some  of  cotton,  and  dozens  of  brand  new  flannel 

shirts.     At  a  tailor's    bale  after  bale  of  stout 

cloth  was   brought    out   and   thrown   into  the 

cart.    Another  bed  with  pillows  was  given  by  a 

very  poor  looking  woman;   at  the  sight  of  this 

a  man  of  the  middle  class  took  the  overcoat 

off  his  back  —  it  was  a  cold  morning,  too,  with 

a  good  nip  in  the  air  —  and  threw  it  into  the 

cart.     I  went  into  a  news  vendor's  to  buy  the 

last  edition  of    the    Messaggero.     The    woman 

behind  the  counter  said  to  me: 

*'  I  have  not  read  the  papers,  I  could  not  — 

but  I  know;    I  am  from  that  country.     Never 

since  the  beginning  of  the  world  has  there  been 

such  a  calamity." 

16 


MESSINA   DESTROYED 

How  did  she  know?  It  was  only  later  that 
most  of  us  began  to  realize  it! 

Outside  the  Palazzo  Sciarra  I  met  Vera 
walking  with  Donna  Hilda. 

"  Oh,  to  think  that  we  were  warm  at  your 
fireside  that  night  when  down  there  they  were 
freezing!  "  I  began. 

*'  I  know,  I  know!  '*  Vera  interrupted.  "  Can 
you  get  me  some  money  for  my  Belgian  nuns? 
I  have  raised  a  thousand  pounds  already,  but 
we  shall  need  more."  I  promised  I  would  try; 
I  knew  her  nuns  to  be  wise  as  they  are  good, 
and  that  the  money  would  be  well  spent.  It 
was  our  first  meeting  since  the  dinner.  Vera 
was  pale,  with  disordered  hair  and  hat  awry. 
I  think  her  jacket  and  skirt  did  not  belong 
together.  It  was  a  shock  to  see  her,  with  whom 
dress  is  a  fine  art,  so  unconscious  of  what  she 
wore,  or  how  she  looked.  Donna  Hilda,  a 
Roman,  though  white  as  paper,  was  perfectly 
trim  and  smart  in  appearance. 

"  You  have  no  one  of  yours  down  there?  '* 
I  asked  Donna  Hilda.  That  was  the  first,  the 
inevitable  question  that  in  those  days  one 
asked  every  Italian  one  met. 

"  Not  I,  thank  God !    But  my  grandmother 

17 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND  IN  SUN 

has  some  cousins.  She  does  not  know  if  they 
are  alive  or  dead.  If  they  are  gone,  it  would 
be  best  if  they  are  all  gone  together.  I  am  more 
sorry  for  those  that  are  saved  than  for  those 
that  are  killed." 

I  shall  always  think  of  the  Roman  Corso  — 
the  gay  thoroughfare  where  in  the  carnivals 
of  my  mother's  time  the  wild  horses  used  to 
run  their  race  from  the  Piazza  del  Popolo  at 
one  end  to  the  Piazza  Venezia  at  the  other  — 
as  it  looked  that  day.  I  never  saw  the  barberi, 
but  I  have  seen  many  carnival  processions 
when  the  balconies  of  the  Corso  were  full  of 
pretty  women  throwing  flowers  and  confetti, 
and  the  street  of  young  men  tossing  flowers 
to  the  belles  in  the  carriages  and  balconies. 
To-day  the  street  was  filled  with  these  stern- 
faced  students  in  their  gay  carnival  caps. 
Every  cart,  carriage  or  automobile  that  passed 
[carried  a  student  on  each  step,  asking,  begging, 
'demanding  alms!  They  were  no  respecters 
of  persons.  The  Japanese  Ambassador,  with 
his  inscrutable  face,  and  his  wife  and  doll-like 
child  passed  in  their  unbecoming  European 
dress.  They  alone  looked  impassive  and  in- 
different  in   a   crowd   where   every   other   face 

18 


MESSINA   DESTROYED 

was  tense  and  tragic.  The  students  who 
stood  on  each  step  of  the  Ambassador's  carriage 
would  not  be  denied;  I  could  not  see  in  the 
end  if  their  passion  or  his  passivity  won  the 
day. 

It  was  nearly  one  o'clock  when  forage  wagon 
number  24  reached  the  Piazza  Venezia.  The 
cart  was  piled  high.  The  streets  were  emptying; 
people  were  going  home  to  lunch.  The  students 
and  the  tall  man  with  the  bandaged  throat 
held  a  consultation,  to  decide  whether  or  no 
there  was  any  use  going  on  with  their  work. 
Meanwhile,  the  bugler,  sitting  on  his  stool  at 
the  back  of  the  cart,  lighted  a  cigarette  and 
began  to  read  a  newspaper.  The  sight  of  his 
sturdy  merry  face  was  somehow  calming.  If 
the  end  of  the  world  was  coming,  had  begun, 
while  his  world  lasted  it  was  for  him  to  blow 
his  bugle !  —  to  call  upon  the  people  to  give 
food,  clothes,  money,  everything,  pro  Calabria 
e  Sicilia. 

From  the  first  J.  refused  to  read  the  papers  or 

hear  the  details,  and  from  the  first  he  said,  "  I 

want  to  go  down  and  dig  if  I  can  get  the  chance, 

but  I  don't  want  to  hear  about  it." 

For  some  days  there  seemed  no  chance  of  his 

19 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND   IN  SUN 

carrying  out  his  wish  of  "  going  down  to  dig.'* 
The  red  tape,  the  slowness,  the  utter  incapacity 
of  the  railroads,  the  post,  the  telegraph  to 
cope  with  the  situation  seemed  maddening; 
it  may  have  been  inevitable,  it  probably  was. 
He  offered  his  services  here,  there,  everywhere, 
but  martial  law  had  been  proclaimed  and  it 
was  impossible  to  reach  the  earthquake  region 
without  great  influence. 

Thursday,  December  31st,  the  American 
Ambassador,  Mr.  Lloyd  Griscom,  despatched 
the  first  American  relief  party  from  Rome  to 
Messina.  The  Ambassador  himself  had  hoped 
to  lead  the  expedition.  In  those  days  of  anguish 
when  we  knew  that  thousands  of  lives  might 
yet  be  saved  if  only  help  came  in  time,  it  was 
torture  for  such  a  man  to  sit  with  idle  hands,  — 
hands  that  might  dig !  —  no  matter  how  actively 
he  might  be  working  with  brain  and  wits.  He 
soon  realized  that  he  could  not  leave  his  post; 
his  place  was  Rome,  his  work  to  inspire,  organize 
and  plan  the  American  Relief,  to  dispense  the 
nation's  largess! 

Major  Landis,  the  military  attache  of  the 
embassy,  was  put  in  charge  of  the  party.     His 

special  care  was  to  search  for  the  bodies  of 

20 


^,  ,     ^  ^       - Sir  ■^=si^?^^ 


■'-^>^: 


<*♦ 


MESSINA.     RUINS  OF  THE  AMERICAN  CONSULATE.     Page21. 


MESSINA  DESTROYED 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Cheney,  our  Consul  and  his 
wife,  and  to  recover  the  papers  of  the  Consulate, 
for  we  knew  now  that  the  Consulate  had  been 
entirely  destroyed.  Mr.  Bayard  Cutting,  our 
Consul  from  Milan,  was  of  the  party,  and  Mr. 
Winthrop  Chanler,  whose  mission  was  to  look 
up  missing  Americans.  From  the  moment 
the  news  of  the  earthquake  was  known  in 
America,  the  Embassy  was  besieged  by  tele- 
grams from  people  at  home  who  had  friends  in 
Sicily.  The  largest  American  colony  in 
Southern  Italy  is  at  Taormina,  only  two  hours 
distant  by  train  from  Messina.  It  was  im- 
possible for  our  Taorminesi  to  send  word  of 
their  safety  to  their  relations  at  home,  who 
were  torn  with  anxiety  about  them.  It  was 
at  this  time  we  first  heard  that  Miss  Catharine 
Bennett  Davis  of  the  Bedford  Reformatory 
was  traveling  in  Sicily  and  it  was  feared  was 
in  Messina,  and  of  Anne  Lee,  Dr.  and  Mrs. 
Herbert  Paton,  Harry  Bowdoin,  Charles  King 
and  Charles  Williams,  all  Americans  settled 
in  Taormina  by  Etna,  a  town  at  first  believed 
to  have  suffered  severely. 

We  went  up  to  the  station  to  see  the  relief 

party  start.    The  train  was  half  an  hour  behind 

21 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND  IN  SUN 

time.    It  was  easy  to  see  the  impatience  of  the 
Americans  to  be  off. 

"  You  have  plenty  of  provisons?  "  a  friend 
on  the  platform  asked  Chanler. 

*'  I  have  a  sack  of  Bologna  sausages,  a  whole 
Parmesan  cheese,  and  a  case  of  Nocera  water,'* 
was  the  answer. 

"  Where  will  you  sleep?  "  asked  an  anxious 
wife  of  one  of  the  travelers. 

"  We  have  one  small  tent,  the  last  in  Rome,  — 
all  the  rest  have  been  bought  up,  —  and  several 
umbrellas." 

Food,  water,  shelter  were  the  three  indis- 
pensables;  they  were  going  to  a  desert  that 
lacked  all  these,  and  the  torrential  rain  that 
began  on  the  fatal  day  still  continued. 

"  Try  to  establish  wireless  communication 
between  a  warship  in  the  harbor  and  the 
Marconi  station  at  Monte  Mario,"  said  Athol 
to  a  press  representative.  "  If  that's  impossible, 
wire  Rome  via  Malta." 

"  Don't  expect  news  of  me  till  I  bring  it 
myself,"  one  of  the  travelers  called  as  the 
tardy  train  moved  out  of  the  station. 

It   seemed    hopeless    to    expect   news.      Our 

first  friend  to  leave   was  Colonel  Delme  Rad- 

22 


MESSINA   DESTROYED 

cliffe  of  the  English  Embassy  (the  famous 
hunter  of  lions),  who  went  down  on  the  first 
train  after  the  disaster.  Later  several  official 
people  we  knew  and  one  or  two  newspaper 
men  followed.  After  they  left  Naples  we 
heard  no  more  from  them.  They  disappeared 
into  the  blue,  and  we  learned  not  to  look  for 
news  of  them  till  they  themselves  brought  it. 

As  the  train  pulled  out  we  heard  the  tramp, 
tramp  of  marching  men  coming  up  the  street  — 
more  soldiers  for  the  south.  Nearly  all  the 
garrison  at  Messina  had  been  killed;  every 
day  regiments  of  soldiers  went  down  to  that 
grim  battle-field,  some  to  lose  their  lives,  all 
to  suffer  agonies  of  mind  and  body,  for  as  usual 
the  army  bore  the  brunt  of  the  disaster  — 
and  bore  it  well. 

As  we  left  the  station  we  met  Princess  Nadine, 
called  "  the  first  citizen  of  Rome  "  by  reason 
of  her  splendid  work  for  the  poor  sick  children 
of  the  city.  Something  was  said  about  meeting 
the  prqfughi  (refugees)  who  were  expected  on 
the  next  train  from  Naples.  She  shook  her 
great  benevolent  head  and  answered  firmly: 

'*  That  is  for  the  rest  of  you.      I  must  keep 

to    my    work.      My    sick    babies    cannot    be 

23 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND  IN  SUN 

neglected.  Everybody  else  will  do  for  Calabria 
and  Sicily;  tJiey  only  have  me." 

The  Princess  was  right.  She  belongs  to  the 
regular  working  army  of  philanthropists.  The 
reserve  volunteer  force  of  the  world  was  already 
mustering  for  this  world  disaster. 

A  little  farther  on  we  met  our  friend,  Lom- 
bardi,  the  great  mathematician,  carrying  a 
traveling  shawl  and  an  umbrella.  He  stopped 
to  speak  to  us: 

"  Just  in  time  to  say  good-by !  I  am  leaving 
by  the  next  train." 

"  For  Messina?  " 

He  laughed  —  "  No,  to  get  out  of  Messina  — 
that's  more  than  I  can  do  in  Rome!  I  am  off 
for  Morocco,  the  farthest  place  from  Messina 
I  know.  The  Moors  won't  trouble  themselves 
much  about  the  earthquake.  I  must  have  more 
quiet  than  can  be  found  in  Italy  this  year,  if 
I  am  to  finish  my  calculations." 

Just  as  we  were  getting  into  our  cab  outside 
the  station  our  friend  Nerone  came  along. 
He  looked  pale,  red-eyed,  completely  knocked 
out. 

"  What  is  the  matter.?  "  I  asked.     "  Have 

you  been  ill.^^  " 

24 


MESSINA   DESTROYED 

"  Matter  ?  "  he  cried,  astonished  at  the  ques- 
tion. "  This  thing  has  made  me  ill.  I  had  to 
take  a  purge  and  go  to  bed.'* 

I  never  heard  that  Nerone  did  anything  else 
for  the  sufferers  —  taking  a  purge  did  seem 
an  odd  way  of  showing  sympathy. 

As  we  drove  from  the  station,  past  the  Baths 
of  Diocletian,  we  met  the  regiment,  whose 
measured  tread  we  had  heard,  and  recognized, 
marching  gallantly  at  the  head  of  his  company, 
a  young  captain  whom  we  had  often  watched 
drilling  his  men  in  the  great  field  across  the 
Tiber.  We  called  him  Philippus  for  that 
soldier  of  Crotona  the  Segesteans  found  slain 
among  their  foes  after  the  battle,  and  to 
whose  memory  on  account  of  his  superhuman 
beauty  a  temple  was  erected.  Philippus  was  our 
neighbor;  now  that  he  was  leaving  it  seemed 
he  was  almost  our  friend.  The  barracks  where 
he  and  his  soldiers  lived  were  near  our  house. 
It  was  their  bugle  that  eveiy  night  at  half- 
past  ten  sounded  the  call  we  too  obeyed,  "  Go 
to  bed,  go  to  bed,  put  out  the  lights."  The 
soldiers  were  most  of  them  mere  boys  with 
beardless  faces.     When  we  should  meet  again 

they  would  not  look  so  young.     Those  who  went 

25 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND  IN  SUN 

down  to  the  earthquake  region  aged  fast  as 
men  do  in  battle. 

I  haunted  the  station  in  those  days,  watching 
the  departure  of  the  bands  of  engineers,  fire- 
men, doctors,  medical  students  that  went 
down  from  Rome  by  every  train  that  left  for 
Naples.  From  Milan,  from  Turin,  from  Flor- 
ence, from  every  city  or  town  of  northern  Italy, 
help  poured  down  towards  the  stricken  -country. 
The  Knights  of  Malta  sent  a  field  hospital  and 
a  corps  of  doctors  and  nurses.  Food,  clothes, 
medicines,  tents,  nurses,  doctors,  the  great 
stream  of  help  flowed  steadily  towards  the 
south.  The  railroads  were  not  equal  to  the 
tremendous  strain  put  upon  them,  and  the  con- 
gestion of  traflSc  was  one  of  the  hardest  of 
Italy's  trials.  Her  people  were  starving,  dying 
of  cold  and  hunger,  while  the  whole  railroad 
system  was  congested  and  the  good  food  and 
the  warm  clothes,  instead  of  reaching  the  poor 
victims,  were  shunted  on  side-tracks  or  delayed 
in  freight  houses  for  weeks,  even  months.  It 
was  inevitable  that  this  should  have  happened; 
the  same  thing  would  have  happened  in  any 
country.      But   everything   was   against   Italy. 

The  unheard-of  severity  of  the  winter  was  not 

26 


MESSINA  DESTROYED 

the  least  element  of  danger  and  difficulty.  The 
railroad  is  managed  by  the  Government,  that 
poor  overburdened  Government  that  tries  its 
best  to  carry  the  great  weight  put  upon  it. 
The  strain  of  carrying  south  the  vast  stream 
of  provisions  and  supplies  and  of  carrying  north 
the  enormous  numbers  of  the  refugees  flying 
from  Sicily  was  too  much  for  it.  What  nation, 
what  railroad  system  could  have  handled  such 
a  situation?  One  sinister  commodity  took  pre- 
cedence of  all  others  —  quicklime;  already  the 
menace  of  pestilence  was  in  people's  minds,  for 
now  we  knew  that  in  Messina,  a  city  of  200,000 
souls,  more  than  half  the  inhabitants  had 
perished. 

On  Saturday,  the  second  of  January,  Athol 
asked  me  to  visit  one  of  the  first  families  of 
refugees  who  had  arrived  in  Rome.  I  found 
them  in  a  gaunt  new  barrack  of  a  house  in  an 
arid  street  of  one  of  the  ugliest  quarters  of  new 
Rome. 

"  You  have  some  superstiti  here?  "  I  inquired 

of  the  porter's  wife,  who  came  out  of  the  little 

den  where  she  lived  and   cooked  (chiefly  garlic 

it  appeared),  for  her  husband  and  children. 

"Oh  yes,  poor  people!     You  will  find  them 

27 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND  IN  SUN 

on  the  second  floor.  You  are  not  the  first  who 
has  asked  for  them."  She  stopped  and  looked 
at  me  curiously.  *'  Excuse  me,  you  too  have 
perhaps  come  to  inquire  for  news  of  some 
relative  down  there  .^^  " 

"  No,  no,  thank  Heaven !  only  to  ask  if  I 
can  do  anything  for  them." 

**  So  much  the  better!  There  is  enough  to 
do."  The  porter's  wife  nodded  and  went  back 
to  her  cooking.  I  climbed  two  long  flights  of 
the  cheap,  stark  building  and  rang  a  strident 
bell.  The  thin  varnished  pine  door  was  opened 
a  crack,  and  a  handsome  slatternly  woman 
looked  out.  When  I  asked  to  see  the  profughiy 
she  stood  aside  and  let  me  pass.  In  the  entry 
I  met  two  people  coming  out,  a  shabby  man  with 
a  hard  dry  face  like  an  eagle's  and  a  very 
beautiful  young  girl  with  a  waxen  complexion. 
When  they  heard  me  ask  for  the  profughi 
they  stopped  and  looked  at  me  so  intently 
that  I  paused  and  looked  helplessly  back  at 
them. 

"  You  have  asked  to  see  the  profughi,^'  said 

the  man  in  a  harsh  dry  voice;  "  do  you  possibly 

know    something    of    them  —  or    of    others  — 

down  there  —  .^^  " 

28     » 


MESSINA  DESTROYED 

"  Nothing.  And  you?  —  do  you  know  any- 
thing of  Messina?  " 

"  I?  "  laughed  the  eagle-faced  man  drearily, 
**  I  am  of  Messina.  This  one  also,"  he  looked 
at  the  girl,  *'  though  I  never  saw  her  till  today. 
We  go  here,  there,  together,  asking  news  — 
her  people  are  all  there  and  mine." 

"  Come,"  said  the  girl,  "  do  not  let  us  waste 
time."  She  spoke  with  authority  as  one  used 
to  giving  orders  and  having  them  obeyed. 
I  noticed  then  how  sumptuously  she  was 
dressed.  They  went  down  the  stairs  together, 
a  strange  pair,  the  shabby  eagle-faced  man  and 
the  young  lovely  lady.  I  never  saw  the  girl 
again,  or  knew  whether  she  found  those  for 
whom  she  sought. 

"  It  is  the  truth  that  I  have  not  had  jBve 

minutes  to  comb  myself  today,"  said  the  pa- 

drona,  who  had  opened  the  door,  a  dark  woman 

of  the  noble  Trasteverine  type.     She  smoothed 

her    magnificent    black    hair    that    lay    in    full 

natural    waves    over    her    low    forehead,    and 

pulled  up  the  collar  of  her  white  jacket  to  hide 

her    beautiful    bronze   throat.      "  Believe    me, 

Signora,  that    blessed   bell  has    never  stopped 

ringing.      Holy    Apostles!      One    would    think 

29 


SICILY  IN   SHADOW  AND  IN  SUN 

that  the  Messinesi  were  different  from  other 
Christians,  that  they  had  two  heads,  everybody 
must  have  a  look  at  them." 

"  I  am  sorry  to  disturb  you,"  I  began. 

'*  No,  no,"  she  said,  "  I  did  not  mean  that. 
What  is  it  to  do  ?  They  are  relations  of  relations 
of  my  husband's.  They  knew  our  name  and 
address  in  Rome  and,  having  no  other  friends, 
they  came  to  us.  They  arrived  yesterday. 
We  have  taken  the  furniture  out  of  one  of 
our  rooms,  borrowed  a  few  beds,  and  done  what 
we  could  to  make  them  comfortable.  Poor 
souls !  Anything  that  you  can  do  — "  she 
threw  open  the  door  of  a  large  apartment, 
evidently  the  property  room  of  some  theatrical 
company.  The  floor  space  on  the  left  was  taken 
up  with  bundles  of  stage  costumes  neatly 
folded  and  tagged.  A  white  toga  with  an  olive 
wreath  and  a  pair  of  sandals  lay  next  a  costume 
Othello  might  have  worn,  judging  by  the  coffee- 
colored  stockinette  tucked  into  the  yellow 
satin  cloak.  On  the  right  of  the  door  were 
four  decent  beds;  in  the  corner  stood  a  dining 
table  with  a  loaf  of  bread,  a  green  wicker  basket 
of  ricotta,  and  a  flask  of  Genzano.  The  room 
was  half  full  of  people. 

30 


MESSINA  DESTROYED 

"  This  lady  wishes  to  talk  with  the  Messinesi,** 
cried  the  padrona,  good-naturedly  elbowing  the 
crowd,  evidently  friends  and  hangers-on  of 
the  house.  "  You  have  seen  them,  yes?  They 
only  have  two  eyes  apiece  and  one  mouth? 
Well,  then  make  room  for  the  stranger  lady. 
She  may  do  something  besides  stare  at  the 
poor  abandoned  creatures." 

The  people  readily  fell  back  and  I  found 
myself  face  to  face  with  one  of  the  first  families 
of  the  survivors  who  had  reached  Rome.  At 
sight  of  them  I  was  overcome  with  suffocating 
emotion.  It  was  a  full  minute  before  I  could 
speak,  before  I  could  see  through  the  sudden 
mist  that  blinded  me.  It  was  as  if  their  sufferings 
had  set  them  apart,  their  sorrows  hallowed  them. 

In  the  middle  of  the  group  stood  an  old  man 
and  woman,  holding  each  other  by  the  hand. 
Both  were  bent  and  wan  looking;  the  woman 
seemed  the  less  shaken  of  the  two.  She  had  a 
wonderful  shrivelled  face  with  gray-blue  eyes 
and  a  brown  seamed  skin,  stooping  shoulders 
covered  by  a  small  peasant  shawl,  and  an  alert 
wiry  little  body.  It  was  my  business  to  ask 
certain    questions,    but    it    was    more    than    a 

minute  before  I  could  get  out  the  words. 

31 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND   IN   SUN 

"  What  are  your  names?  " 

*'  I  am  Rosina  Calabresi,"  the  staunch  old 
woman  quavered.  "  This  is  my  husband;  he 
cannot  talk  much  yet.  He  is  better  now,  but 
for  three  days  after  the  earthquake  he  could 
not  say  a  word.  This  is  our  son  Francesco, 
and  this  is  his  wife."  Francesco,  a  soft-eyed 
young  man,  patted  his  wife's  hand;  she  hid  her 
face  on  his  shoulder  and  began  to  weep.  **  This 
is  my  grandson,"  Rosina  continued,  *'  he  is  of 
Reggio.  He  was  staying  with  us  that  he  might 
go  to  school  in  Messina.  His  mother  is  my 
eldest  daughter.  We  have  not  yet  heard  from 
his  parents.  We  do  not  know  whether  they  are 
alive  or  dead." 

The  boy,  a  pale,  interesting  lad  of  fourteen, 
looked  at  me  with  serious  unmoved  face. 

"  My  husband  was  a  government  employe 
formerly,"  the  old  woman  continued;  **  he  was 
a  postman."  She  shook  him  gently  by  the  arm. 
"  Cannot  you  speak  to  the  lady.'^  "  The  old 
postman  moved  his  lips  dumbly.  "  He  is  only 
seventy-eight  years  old,  and  I  am  seventy," 
Rosina  went  on.  "  Francesco  is  our  young- 
est   son."      I    asked    the   young   woman   her 

name. 

32 


MESSINA  DESTROYED 

"  Lucia,"  she  said,  and  hid  her  face  again. 
The  young  man  comforted  her. 

"  She  will  do  better  soon,"  said  the  old 
woman,  nodding  to  me. 

**  When  do  you  expect  the  baby?  "  I  asked. 

*'  Tomorrow,"  she  said,  "  it  will  be  nine 
months  tomorrow,  the  first  child,  we  have  not 
been  married  quite  a  year."  Her  soft  eyes 
overflowed  again. 

"  Do  not  cry.  You  have  your  husband  and 
you  will  have  your  child.  That  is  something 
to  be  thankful  for.    Did  all  your  family  escape  .^^  " 

"  Yes,  all  that  were  in  our  house,  six  of  us,'* 
said  Francesco.  '*  We  do  not  know  about  the 
others."  I  heard  a  deep  sigh  behind  me  and 
turned  to  see  a  little  wan  child,  bandaged  and 
pillowed  up  in  a  great  bed.  She  never  stirred 
or  smiled  during  my  whole  visit.  When  I  spoke 
to  her,  she  only  gazed  at  me  with  great  sombre 
eyes  that  had  lost  their  childishness,  eyes  that 
had  seen  sights  of  horror  they  could  never 
forget. 

"  That  is  my  grandchild  Caterina,"  the  old 
woman  explained.  "  She  has  been  lame  from 
birth.     When   we   escaped   from   the   house   I 

carried  her  in  my  arms.     As  we  ran  the  earth 

33 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND  IN  SUN 

beneath  us  opened  and  threw  stones  at  us. 
One  of  them  struck  Caterina  and  broke  her 
lame  leg." 

"  Tell  me  how  you  escaped?  " 

The  young  man,  Francesco  Calabresi,  a 
plumber  of  Messina,  now  spoke: 

"  We  slept  in  two  rooms  on  the  ground  floor 
behind  the  shop.  We  were  all  asleep  in  bed 
when  the  earthquake  came.  There  were  three 
long  shocks  and  the  earth  groaned  as  it  rocked 
from  side  to  side  as  if  it  were  in  pain.  Though 
the  house  fell  down  about  us  we  were  not  hurt. 
The  door  into  the  street  was  jammed  and  would 
not  open.  I  found  a  small  hole  in  the  wall  near 
it  and  managed  to  crawl  through  it  and  to  help 
the  others  out.'* 

"  It  was  dark,  and  cold,  and  it  rained  —  Oh, 
God,  how  it  rained!  "  cried  the  old  woman, 
"  and  we  were  all,  except  Lucia,  naked  as  the 
day  we  were  born." 

Lucia  smiled  for  the  first  time  and  opened  her 
dress  to  show  me  her  high  chemise. 

"  Yes,  I  had  this  on;  it  was  the  only  thing 

we  saved."     She  was  evidently  proud  that  she 

alone  of  all    the  family  had    escaped  with  a 

garment  to  hide  her  nakedness.     In  Sicily  the 

34 


MESSINA  DESTROYED 

old  Italian  habit  of  sleeping  without  night 
clothes  still  prevails.  There  is  a  widespread 
prejudice  against  night  clothes.  Nena,  an  old 
Venetian  servant,  once  told  me  that  it  was  very 
unwholesome  to  sleep  dressed.  This  absolute 
nakedness,  both  of  the  living  and  of  the  dead, 
seemed  to  the  rescuers  the  last  touch  of  horror. 

"  It  was  quite  dark,"  the  old  woman  con- 
tinued, "  only  out  over  the  sea  there  was  a 
strange  light  like  fire.  We  found  our  way  to 
the  Villa  Mazzini.  Part  of  the  railing  and  the 
gates  had  been  thrown  down  so  that  we  could 
get  into  the  garden.  That  is  how  we  escaped 
being  killed.  We  waited  together  till  it  was 
light,  then  Francesco  went  and  tried  to  find 
help.  We  stayed  in  the  villa  two  days  and  two 
nights.  The  rain  never  stopped  for  one  moment. 
We  had  no  food,  no  clothes,  no  shelter,  but  we 
were  alive  and  safe." 

"  Did  you  see  any  of  your  neighbors?  " 

"  No,  but  as  we  ran  we  heard  people  all  about 
us  crying  *  misericordia.^  " 

"  Did  you  expect  to  escape.'^  " 

"  Oh,  no!  I  believed  it  was  the  end  of  the 
world.  The  earth  shook  and  rumbled  under- 
neath us.     When  it  grew  light  it  seemed  as  if 

35 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND   IN   SUN 

the  mountains  of  Calabria  were  coming  at  us 
across  the  straits  to  crush  us." 

Francesco  now  took  up  the  story:  "  I  made 
my  way  down  to  the  Faro.  When  it  was  light 
I  found  a  boat  and  rowed  out  to  the  ships  in 
the  harbor.  Later,  when  the  Russian  vessels 
came,  they  gave  me  a  little  food  and  a  few 
clothes.  In  the  end  they  took  us  on  board  their 
ship,  they  fed  and  clothed  us.  Russians,  did 
I  say,  Signora.f^  No,  they  were  angels.  They 
took  us  and  many,  many  others  to  Naples  on 
their  great  ship.  At  Naples  the  highest  signoria 
waited  upon  us  as  if  they  had  been  servants. 
They  gave  us  white  bread  and  wine  and  more 
clothes,  shoes  also,  and  they  showed  us  the 
kindness  of  brothers  and  sisters.  We  shall 
never  forget  them.  Then  the  Duchess  of 
Aosta  paid  our  fare  to  Rome." 

'*  What.f^  The  railroad  did  not  take  you 
free.?  " 

"  Oh,  no!  Every  one  was  paid  for  by  the 
Duchessa  benedetta." 

As  they  seemed  pleased  to  have  me  stay  with 

them,  I  sat  and  comforted  them  as  well  as  I 

could  for  an  hour.     After  a  little  Lucia  came 

and  sat  beside  me   and   promised  me  that  she 

36 


MESSINA  DESTROYED 

would  not  grieve  when  her  time  came  to  go  to 
the  hospital.  We  made  out  a  list  of  the  things 
most  needed,  headed  by  a  set  of  plumber's 
tools  for  Francesco  and  a  basket  for  the  baby 
to  sleep  in.  I  promised  to  return  in  a  few  days, 
and  as  I  rose  to  take  leave  they  clung  to  me  as 
if  I  had  been  an  old  friend. 

'*  Is  it  your  wish  in  the  future,"  I  said  to 
Francesco,  "  to  remain  in  Rome,  or  later  to 
return  to  Messina?  "  Even  now  we  outsiders 
had  not  yet  grasped  the  awful  completeness  of 
the  disaster. 

At  my  question  Rosina  became  terrified,  and 
for  the  first  time  in  our  interview  lost  her  self- 
control.  She  threw  both  her  hands  above  her 
head  with  a  dreadful  gesture  of  despair  and 
shrieked : 

"  Messina.^  What  is  it  that  you  say.-^  Mes- 
sina non  esiste  piii  !  " 

It  was  from  Rosina  that  the  eagle-faced  man 
had  got  his  phrase;  it  was  from  her  that  I 
for  the  first  time  had  an  inkling  of  the  true 
extent  of  the  calamity.  When  I  look  back  at 
these  last  months  during  which  I  have  lived 
with  the  thought  of  Messina  always  with  me, 

till  it  seems  as  if  the  word  Messina  must  be 

37 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND  IN  SUN 

found  seared  upon  my  heart  when  I  am  dead, 
I  hear  those  words,  "  Messina  non  esiste  piu  1  '* 
When  I  pass  in  review  the  hundreds  of  survivors 
I  have  seen  and  talked  with  in  Rome,  Syracuse, 
Palermo,  finally  in  Messina  itself,  I  see  clearest 
of  all  the  face  of  Rosina,  the  ancient  woman;  I 
hear  her  shriek  of  woe: 

"  Messina  non  esiste  piu  !  ** 


38 


II 

THE  STRAITS  OF  DEATH 

Wednesday,  December  30th,  the  King  and 
Queen  of  Italy  sailed  through  the  straits  and 
into  the  harbor  of  Messina.  As  their  ship,  the 
*'  Vittorio  Emanuele,"  approached  the  Faro, 
the  gunners  of  the  Russian  cruisers,  the  English 
men-of-war,  and  the  Italian  battleships  began 
to  fire  the  royal  salute. 

"  Cease  firing!  "  The  signal  flashed  from 
the  King's  ship;  this  was  no  time  for  royal 
salvos.  The  '*  Vittorio  Emanuele"  crept  cau- 
tiously along,  feeling  every  inch  of  her  way,  for 
a  new  terror  had  been  added  to  the  old  perils 
of  Scylla  and  Charybdis.  It  was  said  that 
under  the  seething  waters  of  the  uneasy  straits 
a  submarine  volcano  had  arisen,  and  no  one 
knew  how  much  the  bottom  of  straits  or  har- 
bor had  been  altered  by  the  action  of  this  hid- 
den volcano. 

A  fleet  of  small  boats  filled  with  desperate 

half-naked  men  put  off  from  the  shore  and  sur- 

39 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND  IN  SUN 

rounded  the  King's  ship.     This  was  the  third 

day  after  the  earthquake;    the  survivors  were 

starving,   dying  of  cold  and  hunger,  when  in 

every  Itahan  village  men  and  women  had  taken 

the    clothes  from   their  backs,   the  food  from 

their  mouths  for  them,  when  in  Rome  the  poor 

prisoners  in  the  gaols  had  voted  to  a  man  that 

the  little  sums  they  had   earned  and  put  by 

against  their  release  should  be  spent  for  them. 

The  shivering  figures    in    the   boats   stretched 

out  appealing  hands  towards  the  King. 

*'  Aiutarteci,  aiutarteci  !  "  they  cried.     "  Help 

us,  Majesty.     Give  us  to  eat,  give  us  to  drink, 

clothes  to  cover  us,  the  abandoned  of  God  and 

man! "     These   broken    men   were   the  King's 

escort,  their  frenzied  cries  Messina's  greeting  to 

her  sovereign.     In  a  crazy  felucca  a  tall  old 

sailor  held  up  a  hand  to  silence  the  clamoring 

crew,   snatched   a  red   biretta  from  his  silver 

curls,  waved  it  above  his  head  with  a  ringing 

cry: 

"  Evviva!     We  have  the  King,  we  have  all!  " 

"  Thou  say  est  well,  Luigi,"  the  young  avvo- 

cato,    Arcangelo  Bonanno,  called  out  from  the 

pier.     He  knew  Luigi,  the  old  fisherman,  and 

had  sailed  with  him  from  Giardini  to  Messina 

40 


MESSINA.     A  FUNERAL  BARGE.     Page  42. 


THE  KING  AND  THE  WOUNDED  OFFICER.     Page  43. 


THE   STRAITS  OF   DEATH 

in  the  "  Stella  del  Mare,"  one  of  the  few  boats 
spared  by  the  tidal  wave  that  had  made  total 
wrecks  of  most  of  the  fishing  smacks  along  the 
coast. 

As  the  "  Vittorio  Emanuele  "  neared  the  shore 
those  on  board  saw  the  white  facade  of  the 
palazzata  through  the  gray  rain  —  for  still  it 
rained  and  always  rained  a  fine  cold  rain,  "  not 
quite  like  any  other 'rain,"  as  Rosina  Calabresi 
had  said.  "  Earthquake  rain  "  I  remember 
she  called  it.  At  first  sight  it  seemed  as  if 
the  palazzata  —  the  splendid  row  of  palaces  two 
miles  long,  that  lined  the  sickle-shaped  harbor 
fronting  the  straits  —  was  little  damaged.  As 
they  came  nearer  they  saw  that  the  outer 
wall,  with  its  sculptured  facade  of  graceful 
reclining  goddesses,  was  an  empty  shell. 

"  There  were  three  shocks,"  Rosina  said. 
"  One  from  side  to  side,  one  up  and  down  as  if 
the  earth  jumped  under  us,  one  round  and 
round;  that  was  the  worst,  the  very  earth 
groaned  with  the  pain  of  it.'* 

These  three  shocks  that  reduced  the  beautiful 

city  of  Messina  to  a  heap  of  ruins,  lasted  just 

thirty-two    seconds!     The  sidewise   movement 

threw  down  the  side  walls;  then  the  first,  second, 

41 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND  IN  SUN 

third,  fourth,  and  fifth  floors,with  all  that  in  them 
lived,  dropped  one  over  the  other  in  awful  chaos 
to  the  bottom  of  the  cellars.  Along  the  water 
front  high  in  air  hung  a  cloud  of  dun  smoke; 
for  after  earthquake  and  tidal  wave  came  fire. 
That  drifting  smoke  was  the  only  thing  in  sight 
that  moved  as  the  King  approached;  it  might 
have  been  the  soul  of  Messina  hanging  over  the 
dead  city. 

The  King's  launch  made  its  way  through  the 
harbor's  dreadful  debris,  —  there  were  floating 
corpses  everywhere,  —  and  drew  up  at  the 
heavy  stone  quay;  here  the  land  looked  like 
the  waves  of  the  sea,  in  some  places  it  had  sunk 
six  feet  below  the  water,  in  others  it  had  been 
heaved  high  in  air.  A  long  line  of  unrecognized 
dead  had  been  laid  out  for  identification;  naked 
and  helpless  the  poor  disfigured  corpses  washed 
to  and  fro  with  the  tide,  while  those  among 
the  survivors  who  had  the  heart  and  courage 
tried  to  find  a  name  for  each.  Our  friend  the 
Avvocato  Bonanno  (he  had  spent  the  night  of 
the  28th  in  Taormina  and  so  escaped  destruc- 
tion) was  helping  make  up  the  tragic  roll- 
call. 

"  That  is  Maddalena,  youngest  daughter  of 

42 


THE   STRAITS  OF  DEATH 

Count  Q.;  I  danced  with  heron  Christmas  Day. 
This  is  her  old  grandmother,  yes,  I  am  sure,  I 
remember  the  httle  mole  on  her  cheek.  And 
this  —  might  be  Nina,  the  eldest  daughter; 
look  for  an  emerald  scarab  on  her  left  hand.  Ah, 
God,  the  human  brutes!  "  The  emerald  ring, 
the  finger  it  had  graced  were  both  gone,  cut  off 
by  ghouls  that  rob  the  dead. 

The  launch  touched  the  quay,  and  the  King 
stepped  on  shore  where  he  was  met  by  the 
few  city  officials  who  had  survived.  The  spokes- 
man began  a  halting  address  of  welcome : 

"  The  visit  of  your  august  majesty  is  an 
honor  that  we  shall  never  forget,  in  the  name 
of  the  city  —  " 

The  King  cut  the  good  man  short  with  an 
abrupt : 

"  Scusi,  do  not  let  us  talk  nonsense,"  and  in 
silence  led  the  way  to  the  barracks  where 
hundreds   of  his   brave   soldiers   had   perished. 

"  Snuffed  out,"  Bonanno  said,  "  or  so  we  hope, 
like  so  many  rush  candles."  A  few  steps 
farther  on  the  King  met  four  soldiers  carrying 
a  wounded  officer  on  a  litter.  The  King  glanced 
at  the  man  and  a  flash  of  recognition  lighted 

his  face. 

43 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND   IN  SUN 

"  Fermate!  "  he  cried.  The  bearers  set  down 
the  litter;  the  King  propped  the  poor  head, 
rolHng  helplessly  from  side  to  side,  with  a 
fragment  of  gray  military  cloak  folded  for  a 
pillow,  wiped  the  ashen  face,  and  whispered 
the  one  brave  word  ever  on  his  lips  "  Co- 
rag  gio!  " 

The  streets  through  which  the  King  passed 
were  mountains  of  rubbish,  the  houses  heaps 
of  ruins,  the  air  pestilential ;  the  fire  still  burned 
in  many  places,  and  the  smell  of  roasting  flesh 
was  simply  overpowering.  The  few  survivors 
who  hung  about  the  ruins  added  to  the  despair 
of  the  scene;  some  crazed  with  hunger,  thirst, 
despair,  behaved  like  maddened  children;  they 
talked  of  their  dead  or  lost  families  with  the 
terrible  indifference  of  the  insane;  their  minds 
were  not  strong  enough  to  grasp  what  had 
happened.  Others,  oftenest  women,  appealed 
to  every  passer-by,  imploring  help  in  their 
frenzied  efforts  to  reach  some  beloved  being 
buried  under  tons  of  masonry.  A  woman 
tearing  desperately  with  her  bare  hands  at  a 
huge  mass  of  stone  it  would  have  taken  a  regi- 
ment of  men  a  week  to  move  recognized  the 

King;   she  ran  as  if  in  frantic  haste,  threw  her- 

44 


MESSINA.     THE  BARRACKS.     Page  43. 


MESSINA.     RUINS  OF  A  CHURCH.     Page  44. 


MESSINA.     DIGGING  FOR  THE  BURIED-ALIVE.     Page  4; 


Mjl 

^ 

■H 

H^HH^^^^^ 

1 

^H^PHI^*'it 

^^^K^'ff 

-  H 

HtfKai 

■fcm.^Jl  •      '     V*    ., 

d^ 

-      -^ 

THE  KING  AT  MESSINA.     Page  45. 


THE   STRAITS   OF  DEATH 

self  at  his  feet,  raised  her  bleeding  hands  in  an 
agony  of  appeal. 

"  Maestd,  aiuto!  Save  them!  They  are 
alive.  I  hear  them,  my  husband,  my  son,  my 
only  son." 

"  It  is  too  much,"  the  King  broke  from  her 
with  a  sob.  "  Help  her,  you  others,  if  you  can," 
he  cried  to  his  aides  and  pushed  on  through  the 
ghastly  ruin  of  what  three  days  ago  had  been 
the  famous  Marina,  one  of  the  most  beautiful 
streets  in  the  world. 

"  The  King's  walk  through  Messina,"  said 
Bonanno  the  avvocato  w^ho  followed  him, 
"  was  like  the  walk  of  Dante  and  Virgil  through 
the  Inferno.  At  every  step  raving  men,  weep- 
ing women  clutched  at  him,  clung  to  him, 
stretched  out  their  hands  to  him.  Those  hands ! 
I  dream  of  them  now%  hairy  hands  of  men, 
transparent  hands  of  women,  old  shrivelled 
hands  with  gripping  fingers,  chubby  hands  of 
little  children  lifted  to  the  King,  as  if  he  could 
help  them.  I  would  not  have  been  in  his  place, 
no,  not  for  three  kingdoms." 

From  that  desperate  throng  one  tragic  figure 
must  stand  out  clear  in  the  King's  memory  as 

it  does   in  Bonanno's  —  the  Deputy  Ludovico 

45 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND  IN  SUN 

Fulci  pacing  back  and  forth  before  the  ruin 
of  his  brother's  house.  Though  Bonanno  knew 
him  well,  he  did  not  at  first  recognize  him; 
in  four  days  the  deputy  had  grown  twenty 
years  older. 

"  Nicolo,  Nicolo!  Art  thou  yet  alive  .^  "  he 
shrieked.  "  Oh,  my  brother,  make  one  little 
sign!  Until  tonight  I  heard  his  voice  crying 
for  help!  It  has  grown  weaker  and  weaker; 
now  I  hear  no  sound.  If  help  had  come  in 
time,  I  could  have  saved  him,  saved  my  brother, 
do  you  hear?  Him,  his  wife,  his  little  child, 
God  knows  how  many  others  now  dead,  sotto 
le  macerie." 

Under  the  masonry!  No  one  who  was  in 
Italy  during  this  dreadful  season  will  ever  for- 
get that  phrase,  "  sotto  le  macerie,'^  the  deadly 
refrain  of  the  great  tragedy.  Where  is  your 
mother,  your  lover,  your  child?  The  answer 
was  always  the  same  "  sotto  le  macerie.^* 

The  King,  Bonanno  said,  above  all  else  insisted 
that  his  visit  should  bring  no  interruption  to  the 
rescue  work:  indeed  it  proved  an  impetus  to  it, 
for  he  did  much  to  establish  something  approach- 
ing system.     The  work  of  excavation  was  begun 

by  the  Russian  sailors.     Three  Russian  war- 

46 


THE  STRAITS  OF  DEATH 

ships,  the  '*  Cesarevich,"  the  "  Makaroff  "  and 
the  "  Slava,"  cruising  off  the  Calabrian  coast,  met 
a  vessel  —  some  say  English,  some  say  Italian  — 
flying  to  Naples  with  the  news  of  the  earth- 
quake: the  Russians  hurried  to  Messina,  they 
were  the  first  to  arrive  on  the  ground.  What 
they  did  there  Sicily  will  remember  as  long  as 
her  history  survives.  Like  Francesco  Calabresi, 
my  plumber,  the  Avvocato  Bonanno  described 
their  work  in  rescuing  the  entombed  men,  women 
and  children  as  something  superhuman. 

"  They  did  not  wait  for  orders,  they  did  not 
need  them;  each  of  them  was  an  inspired  leader; 
they  saw  no  danger,  but  rushed  like  madmen 
among  crumbling  ruins,  toppling  walls;  they 
worked  like  Titans  I  tell  you.  The  English 
were  not  long  behind  the  Russians,  as  you  may 
believe.  What  a  people!  We  Sicilians  know 
what  we  owe  them!  Did  these  foreigners  save 
many  lives  .^  Yes,  hundreds,  thousands  of  lives. 
More  than  all,  the  sight  of  their  incredible 
labors  —  I  say  it  to  you  again,  they  worked 
like  gods  not  men  —  broke  the  spell  of  apathy 
that  at  first  held  us  powerless.  Madonna  mia  ! 
I  myself  felt  it,  though  at  Taormina  the  shock 

was  light.     At  first  I  was  stunned,  dazed,  lacked 

47 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND  IN  SUN 

power  to  lift  a  hand!  These  unfortunates, 
you  may  beHeve,  were  worse.  The  first  man  I 
met  after  I  returned  to  Messina  was  a  colleague 
of  mine;  we  had  worked  in  the  same  oflBce.  He 
was  quite  stupefied.  He  did  not  know  if  any 
of  his  family  had  escaped  or  not,  he  did  not  seem 
to  care.  The  visit  of  the  King  roused  the 
people;  ah!  it  was  like  cordial  to  one  who  faints. 
Imagine,  on  the  fourth  day  hardly  a  cup  of  water, 
scarcely  a  loaf  of  bread  had  come  to  us  from  the 
outside.  Was  it  wonderful  we  believed  the 
end  of  the  world  had  come,  that  we  were  aban- 
doned by  God  and  man?  " 

And  all  this  time  the  great  stream  of  supplies 
was  pouring  in  a  steady  flood  toward  Messina. 
The  city  was  like  a  man  who  dies  of  starvation 
in  the  midst  of  plenty,  because  he  has  lost  the 
power  to  swallow. 

"  I  went  first  to  the  house  where  I  had  lived," 
Bonanno  said.  "  It  was  a  heap  of  ruins  fallen 
outwards  into  the  street;  the  inner  wall  was 
standing.  How  did  I  know  the  house?  From 
the  crimson  paper  on  my  bedroom  wall.  That 
wall  —  I  can  show  it  to  you  still  —  was  per- 
fect.    There  was  the  crucifix  my  mother  hung 

over  the  bed,  the  palm  from  last  Palm  Sunday; 

48 


THE   STRAITS  OF   DEATH 

there  was  the  Venetian  mirror  without  a  crack, 
a  portrait  of  Lola,  the  Spanish  dancing  girl 
(she  is  among  the  missing).  A  lot  of  soldiers 
were  at  work  excavating  our  house;  an  officer 
with  an  iron  crowbar  lay  flat  on  a  mass  of  rub- 
bish, and  pried  with  all  his  might  at  a  great  stone 
coping  from  under  which  came  faint  groans. 
Another  officer  lay  on  his  back  below  and  some- 
how,—  it  looked  a  miracle,  —  they  got  a  pur- 
chase on  the  stone.  With  strength  that  seemed 
incredible  they  tugged  and  heaved  and  at  last 
lifted  the  great  mass  of  granite;  then  they 
stopped  to  breathe  and  the  soldiers  quickly 
cleared  away  the  smaller  rubbish.  We  took 
out  Agnese,  the  wife  of  my  landlord,  and  her 
little  child;  they  could  not  speak;  their  mouths 
were  full  of  mortar.  When  we  had  freed  their 
mouths  and  nostrils  from  the  mortar  we  found 
they  were  both  too  much  hurt  to  stand.  We 
carried  them  to  the  field  hospital  in  the  piazza, 
where  the  doctors  from  the  English  ships  were 
at  work  under  a  tarpaulin  stretched  over  some 
posts.  Not  much  of  a  hospital,  but  they  worked, 
those  doctors,  as  the  sailors  worked,  like  de- 
mons,   as    one    might    say,   with    all    respect. 

Wet  to  the  skin,  fasting  like  we  others,  but  work- 

49 


SICILY  IN   SHADOW  AND  IN  SUN 

ing  till  their  eyes  refused  to  see,  their  hands 
to  use  the  knife." 

"  Was  Agnese's  husband  saved  too?  " 
"Antonio?  Yes,  he  was  saved;  that  was  a 
strange  case,  one  of  the  strangest.  He  was 
saved  by  his  dog.  That  blessed  animal  —  I 
knew  him  well,  his  name  was  Leone  —  would 
not  let  Antonio  sleep,  but  barked  and  barked 
and  pulled  at  the  blankets  till  Antonio  got 
up  from  his  bed,  dressed  himself  and  went 
out  of  the  house.  It  was  about  half  past 
four  o'clock.  He  could  not  tell  why  he  did 
so;  it  seemed  as  if  the  dog's  intelligence 
controlled  his.  Leone  led  the  way,  Antonio  fol- 
lowed to  the  Piazza  del  Duomo,  where  he  sat 
down  on  the  steps  of  the  Cathedral.  Leone 
was  not  satisfied  and  still  barked  and  whined 
and  ran  back  and  forth,  until  Antonio  finally 
got  up  and  went  and  sat  down  on  a  bench  in 
in  the  middle  of  the  piazza.  He  was  sitting 
there  with  the  dog  beside  him  when  the  earth- 
quake came  and  the  marble  Bambino  fell  down 
out  of  the  arms  of  the  Madonna  over  the  door 
of  the  Matrice,  just  at  the  place  where  he  had 
been    sitting;    if    he    had    remained  there    he 

would  surely  have  been  killed.     These  things 

50 


MESSINA.     THE  CATHEDRAL  BEFORE  THE  DISASTER.     Page  50. 


THE  CATHEDRAL  AFTER  THE  DISASTER.     Page  50. 


ARCANGELO'S  HOUSE.     Page  48. 


MESSINA.     WHERE  MARIETTA  LIVED.     Page  51- 


THE   STRAITS  OF  DEATH 

are  not  to  be  explained  but  there  were  many 
such  happenings." 

"  Were  there  any  others  saved  from  your 
house?  " 

'*  Agnese's  old  grandfather.  He  lay  quite 
still  in  his  bed  and  went  down  in  it  to  the 
lowest  floor  of  the  house.  The  beams  fell  so 
as  to  protect  the  bed.  When  we  found  him 
he  was  without  a  scratch,  but  quite  blind  from 
the  dust  in  his  eyes.  I  shook  the  old  man 
by  the  shoulder  to  rouse  him.  He  turned  his 
blind  eyes  towards  me  and  cried  with  the  voice 
of  a  wounded  lion : 

"  *  Leave  me  in  peace!  The  earth  is  dying; 
I  die  with  the  earth!'" 

Arcangelo's  stories  of  miraculous  escapes 
would  fill  a  volume;  that  of  Marietta  is  one  of 
the  most  extraordinary. 

"  Marietta  certainly  owes  her  life  to  me,'* 
he  began,"  or  rather  to  my  ears.  You  must 
know  that  my  ears  are  remarkable  —  so  were 
my  father's.  I  have  in  truth  the  hearing  of  a 
cat.  No  one  else  could  have  heard  the  faint 
knocking  inside  the  heap  of  rubbish  that  had 
been  Ugo's  workshop.  At  first  I  doubted 
my  senses,  then  I  remembered  that  Marietta 

51 


SICILY  IN   SHADOW  AND   IN   SUN 

lived  in  the  little  room  behind  the  carpenter's 
shop,  and  it  occurred  to  me  at  the  same  time 
that  Ugo  was  working  at  a  job  in  Catania. 
I  gave  information  and  after  many  hours  of 
hard  work  the  soldiers  succeeded  in  making  a 
space  large  enough  to  let  down  a  basket  with 
food  and  water  to  the  woman  buried  under 
the  ruins,  whose  tapping  I  had  heard.  I  could 
now  hear  what  she  said;  she  was  quite  unhurt; 
her  bed  had  been  placed  under  an  arch,  the 
safest  place  of  course,  and  the  arch  remained 
standing;  she  had  not  so  much  as  a  bruise. 
The  house  had  fallen  so  that  unless  great  care 
was  taken  the  remaining  walls  would  crumble 
and  crush  the  woman  under  the  arch.  The 
fifth  morning  I  came  with  a  piece  of  bread  and 
three  dried  figs  I  had  found  in  the  ruins  for 
her;  I  made  the  usual  signal;  there  was  no 
answer. 

"  *  Marietta,  canst  thou  hear.^  '  I  called  to 
her.  She  did  not  reply.  I  put  my  ear  to  the 
hole;  what  did  I  heav?  A  sharp  thin  voice 
that  wailed  and  wailed  but  said  no  word. 

"  '  Marietta,  art  thou  alive?  '     'I  am  ahve, 

and   so   is   the   child.     Water,  for   the   love  of 

Mary ! '     Poverina !   Alone    in    that    dark    pit 

52 


THE   STRAITS   OF   DEATH 

she  had  borne  her  first  child.  On  the  eighth 
day  we  took  Marietta  and  her  baby  from  the 
macerie.  It  was  a  boy,  stout  and  strong  as  a 
young  bull,  for  we  had  fed  the  mother  and  her 
milk  had  not  failed.  Miracles.^  xAh,  well,  that 
is  as  one  believes.  I  myself  put  the  two  of 
them  on  the  train  for  Taormina.  There  be 
many  rich  forestieri  at  Taormina;  I  doubt  not 
they  have  cared  for  Marietta;  they  have  great 
charity,  those  forestieri  of  Taormina.  They 
have  charity,  and  they  understand  us  a  little, 
those  who  live  among  us  here  in  Sicily;  they 
shared  our  calamity,  they  knew  our  people. 
Some  others  do  not  understand,  and  should  not 
judge.  It  may  be  true  that  this  official  ran 
away,  that  this  other  was  relieved  of  office 
for  incompetence.  This  they  know,  but  they 
do  not  know  the  state  of  mind  and  body  to 
which  those  men  were  reduced.  It  was  better 
that  they  fled,  for  they  were  not  fit  to  hold  po- 
sitions of  responsibility;  few  of  us  were;  we 
were  too  much  broken.  No  one'who  has  not 
seen  Messina,  who  has  not  known  the  surviv- 
ors, can  understand;  it  was  not  like  a  battle, 
where  men  go  in  prepared   for   death,   it    was 

quite  another  thing!  " 

53 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND  IN  SUN 

While  the  King  was  at  Messina  martial  law 
was  proclaimed.  General  Mazza,  who  was  at 
home  on  sick  leave,  left  his  bed  and  hurried  to 
Messina  to  take  command  of  the  troops.  I 
asked  Bonanno  what  manner  of  man  the  gen- 
eral was;   I  remember  his  answer  well. 

"  A  good  man  and  a  brave  soldier.  He  has 
but  one  fault,  the  incurable  one:  he  is  sixty- 
eight  years  old  and   out  of  health   besides!  '* 

The  proclaiming  of  martial  law  was  a  military 
necessity.  The  prison  at  Messina  had  been 
destroyed  by  the  earthquake,  and  the  convicts, 
the  scum  of  Sicily,  were  at  large.  From  Naples, 
from  Palermo,  from  all  over  Italy,  the  offscour- 
ing  of  the  cities  raced,  like  beasts  of  prey  who 
scent  the  carnage  of  battle,  to  the  ruin  of  Mes- 
sina, the  beautiful.  It  seemed  as  if  Nature's 
cruelty  in  destroying  half  a  province  roused 
the  basest  passions  in  the  base,  and  the  noblest 
in  the  noble.  The  soldiers  on  their  rounds  at 
night  saw  things  —  desecrations  of  the  helpless 
dead,  offences  against  nature  —  that  turned 
them  from  thoughtless  boys  to  grave  men. 
Here  again  the  Russians,  swift  to  save,  swift  to 
punish,  terrible  in  their  anger,  set  the  example. 

A  young  Russian  midshipman,  a  beautiful  boy, 

54 


THE   STRAITS   OF   DEATH 

—  his  blue  eyes  were  like  ice  with  fire  below, 
Bonanno  said,  —  found  one  of  the  human  vul- 
tures at  work.  The  midshipman  had  very 
little  Italian,  only  a  few  words;  they  were 
enough : 

"  Ladro !  "  he  cried  and  put  his  pistol  to  the 
ruffian's  head,  "  condannato  a  morte/'  and  fired. 

After  this  the  soldiers'  orders  were  explicit; 
when  the  offence  was  monstrous,  the  human 
monsters  were  shot  without  delay.  It  is  a 
terrible  thing  to  proclaim  martial  law  but  there 
was  no  other  way.  Not  only  were  the  Red 
Cross  Knights  of  Europe,  England  and  America 
pressing  on  to  the  relief  of  the  afflicted  city, 
but  the  murderers,  thieves  and  ravishers  from 
the  four  quarters  of  the  earth  were  hastening 
in  search  of  plunder  and  rapine  to  Messina,  the 
rich,  to  Reggio,  the  prosperous,  the  sister  city 
across  the  uneasy  straits. 

*'  Do  you  know  the  worst  .^  "  Bonanno  whis- 
pered, as  if  it  were  too  horrible  to  speak  aloud. 
"  Some  of  our  girls  —  think  of  it  —  lost,  dazed, 
stricken  creatures,  were  kidnapped  for  the 
brothels  of  Naples!  The  slave  hunters  saw 
their  chance  from  the  first  hour;    who  knows 

how  many  of  our  Sicilian  virgins,  the  purest, 

55 


SICILY   IN   SHADOW  AND   IN  SUN 

the  most  beautiful  of  God's  daughters,  are  now 
lost  in  that  hideous,  that  worst  of  all  slavery? 
Ah,  it  is  too  much!  Dear  God,  had  we  not 
enough  to  bear  without  this?  One  I  have  tried 
to  trace,  a  flower,  a  lily,  the  girl  whose  eyes 
said  to  mine,  *  When  the  time  comes  for  you 
to  speak,  I  am  ready.'  She  was  seen  alive  and 
well  on  board  one  of  the  first  boats  that  left 
for  Naples;  she  has  never  been  heard  of  since." 
Bonanno  dashed  the  tears  from  his  eyes, 
shook  his  fist  in  the  direction  of  Naples.  "  Ac- 
cursed  city!"    he   cried,    "sink   of   Europe!" 

While  King  Victor  was  in  Messina  helping 
organize  the  rescue  work.  Queen  Elena  remained 
in  the  harbor  shaping  the  course  of  the  hospital- 
ship  work.  She  went  from  ship  to  ship,  for 
every  vessel,  merchantman  or  man-of-war  of 
whatever  nationality,  became  for  the  nonce  a 
floating  hospital.  The  most  seriously  wounded 
were  carried  on  board  the  ships,  where  they 
could  receive  better  care  than  in  the  hospital 
stations  on  shore  where,  in  the  midst  of  con- 
fusion, and  difficulties  beyond  belief,  the  faith- 
ful surgeons  worked  early  and  late  under  the 

pitiless  rain,  drenched  to  the  skin,  fasting  and 

56 


THE   STRAITS  OF  DEATH 

suffering  with  thirst  and  cold  Hke  all  the  rest. 
It  was  a  time  when  men  and  women  toiled  with 
every  fibre  of  their  being;  there  was  too  much 
to  do  to  allow  of  specialization;  the  King 
planned,  but  he  lent  a  hand  too  when  he  saw 
the  chance;  the  Queen  practically  shaped  the 
whole  future  course  of  the  hospital-ship  work; 
but  that  was  not  enough.  She  rolled  up  her 
sleeves,  put  on  her  apron  and  went  to  work  to 
help  the  doctors  as  only  a  good  nurse  can.  On 
board  one  of  the  floating  hospitals  she  received 
the  wounded,  washed  and  dressed  their  wounds, 
bandaged  broken  limbs,  soothed  the  sick,  com- 
forted the  dying.  It  was  then  that  she  came 
into  her  true  woman's  kingdom,  earned  for  once 
and  all  the  title  of  Queen  Elena  the  Good. 

Her  fame  as  a  nurse  has  been  spread  through- 
out Italy,  throughout  the  world,  not  by  court- 
iers or  reporters,  but  by  the  patients  she  tended. 
That  is  a  sort  of  reputation  that  lasts.  In 
Syracuse  a  young  Messinese  said  to  a  Blue 
Sister  from  Malta,  who  was  doing  up  her  shat- 
tered arm: 

"  Guardi,  the  Queen  put  on  that  bandage; 

mind  you  roll  it  as  smoothly  as  she  did." 

In  a  Naples  hospital  a  child  was  heard  to 

57 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND  IN  SUN 

cry,  "  The  Queen  did  not  hurt  me  as  much  as 
you  do,  and  she  had  to  pick  the  mortar  out  of 
the  wound  before  she  dressed  it." 

It  is  said  that  more  than  one  woman  died  in 
the  Queen's  arms  at  Messina;  it  is  certain  that 
she  was  so  much  impressed  by  what  she  saw 
there  that  she  became  the  most  impassioned 
of  all  who  worked  for  Italy  in  the  dark  hour. 
She  suffered  even  in  her  person;  one  poor  fren- 
zied creature  in  her  struggles  to  throw  herself 
overboard,  struck  the  Queen  and  hurt  her,  it 
was  feared  at  first  seriously.  Her  example  of 
service  was  followed  by  the  court  ladies  and 
by  heroic  women  of  every  class;  her  energy 
aroused  hope  in  the  forlorn  remnant  of  the 
stricken  people;  it  was  a  moral  tonic  and 
stimulus  to  the  whole  nation. 

When  they  left  Rome  both  the  King  and 
Queen  believed  the  disaster  to  be  even  more 
complete  than  it  proved;  they  had  been  told 
that  all  the  inhabitants  of  Messina  and  Reggio 
were  killed.  Orders  were  given  to  the  Roman 
Red  Cross  Society  to  wait  their  instructions. 
When  they  reached  Messina  and  found  how 
matters  stood,  the  Queen  sent  a  wire  to  the 

president  of  the  Red  Cross  asking  for  nurses 

58 


THE   STRAITS   OF  DEATH 

and  doctors  to  be  sent  down.  From  Vera,  one 
of  the  first  to  volunteer,  I  heard  something  of 
the  expedition. 

*'  I  got  my  summons  on  New  Year's  day  — 
you  remember,  we  met  at  the  Campidoglio  that 
morning  and  you  told  me  where  to  go  for  shoes? 
I  had  just  succeeded  in  finding  those  shoes  for 
my  prqfughi  when  I  was  called  to  the  telephone. 
Could  I  be  ready  to  start  that  evening  for  Mes- 
sina.'' Naturally  I  could  —  we  all  could;  not  that 
we  had  been  idle,  for  there  was  plenty  to  do 
for  the  refugees  already  on  our  hands  in  Rome; 
but  if  I  could  be  of  more  use  at  Messina,  I 
was  ready  to  go.  There  were  forty  of  us  women 
in  the  Red  Cross  party  and  a  number  of  sur- 
geons. The  officer  in  command  made  us  an 
amusing  speech  —  he  didn't  mean  to  be  amu- 
sing: '  You  will  take  the  minimum  of  luggage 
and  the  maximum  of  obedience,'  he  said.  '  You 
will  drop  your  titles  and  remember  you  are 
under  military  discipline  and  that  insubordi- 
nation will  be  punished  '  —  then  came  a  hint 
of  a  dark  cabin  and  of  manacles  for  insubordi- 
nates.  We  listened  to  him  and  felt  that  we 
were  back  in  the  days  of  the  French  Revolution, 

that  we  should  henceforth  be  known  as  Citi- 

59 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND   IN  SUN 

zeness  this  or  that.  Many  of  us  had  titles,  but 
not  all.  There  was  Princess  Teano  - —  you  knew 
her  as  the  beautiful  Vittoria  Colonna;  there 
was  the  Marchesa  Guiccioli,  whose  husband  is 
equerry  to  the  Queen  Mother;  there  was 
Countess  Teresina  Tua,  the  violinist;  Madame 
Agresti,  Rossetti's  daughter.  We  left  Rome  for 
Spezia,  way  up  at  the  top  of  Italy;  it  seemed  a 
waste  of  time  when  we  wanted  to  go  to  the 
south;  it  was  a  dreadful  night  journey;  I  sent 
Natika  back  to  Rome  from  Spezia." 

Vera  sighed;  Natika  was  her  Calmuck  maid; 
that  little  sigh  was  the  only  whimper  I  ever 
heard  from  her  through  these  months  when  she 
lived,  worked,  spent  her  genius,  power,  money, 
all  that  she  has  and  is  as  freely  as  water  'pro 
Calabria  e  Sicilia. 

**  At  Spezia  we  caught  the  troop-ship  *  Taor- 
mina  '  bound  for  Messina  with  a  regiment  of 
soldiers.  After  endless  delays  we  at  last  set 
sail;  before  we  were  well  outside  the  harbor 
we  were  recalled  by  a  '  wireless  '  and  had  to 
turn  round  and  go  back.  I  sketched  the  har- 
bor and  Gulf  of  Spezia,  the  arsenal,  the  dock- 
yard, the  two  forts,  the  purple  hills  behind,  the 

white  fishing  villages  in  the  foreground.      It 

60 


THE  STRAITS  OF  DEATH 

was  all  interesting,  but  the  delay  was  hard  to 
bear !  Every  heart-beat  spelt  '  hurry  * ;  every 
hour  of  waiting  meant  so  many  fewer  lives 
saved.  The  soldiers  who  had  only  just  em- 
barked were  ordered  on  shore  again,  and  we  had 
to  wait  until  they  had  all  disembarked!  " 

Vera's  small  nervous  hands  opened  and  shut 
impatiently.  She  speaks  with  a  slight  lisp  that 
is  like  the  soft  pedal  of  a  piano  to  the  music  of 
her  voice.  Vera  was  brought  up  by  an  English 
governess;  she  is  many -colored  as  a  chameleon, 
polished  as  a  many -faceted  jewel;  when  she 
is  with  us  she  turns  the  English  facet  to  the 
light. 

*'  As  we  passed  the  Bay  of  Lerici  I  thought 
of  Lord  Byron  and  of  Shelley  who  passed  his 
last  days  there.  Is  it  true  you  no  longer  read 
those  poets .^     We  do  in  Russia." 

At  sunrise  on  the  morning  of  Saturday,  Jan- 
uary 2nd,  five  days  after  the  earthquake,  the 
"  Taormina  "  with  the  Red  Cross  party  on 
board  sailed  into  the  harbor  of  Messina;  the 
s-hips  at  anchor  saluted  by  dipping  the  colors; 
on  the  admiral's  vessel,  the  marines  presented 
arms.     The  "  Taormina  "  dropped  anchor  near 

enough  the  shore  for  those  on  board  to  see  the 

61 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND  IN  SUN 

sunken  Marina,  the  great  yawning  cracks  in  the 
solid  ground,  the  railroad  station  with  the  cars 
heaped  together  as  if  there  had  been  a  colli- 
sion. A  locomotive  lay  overturned  on  its  side: 
some  of  the  cars  had  been  carried  out  to  sea, 
where  they  lay  idly  washing  to  and  fro,  others 
had  been  seized  and  turned  into  dwellings 
by  the  wretched  superstiti.  An  endless  proces- 
sion of  soldiers  and  sailors  with  stretchers  bear- 
ing the  wounded  filed  past,  and  the  rattle  of 
the  gay  little  painted  Sicilian  carts  heaped  with 
the  dead  never  ceased  as  the  long  line  moved 
towards  the  huge  funeral  pyre.  The  fumes  of 
the  burning  bodies  reached  them  on  board  the 
"  Taormina,"  sickening  but  not  discouraging  the 
perfumed  ladies  of  the  court.  There  had  been 
some  doubt  whether  they  would  be  ordered  on 
shore  to  help  in  the  hospitals  under  the  rude 
tents,  or  whether  the  wounded  would  be  brought 
on  board.  At  last  the  order  came  clear  and  direct : 
'*  Prepare  to  receive  the  wounded  on  board." 
After  that  no  time  was  lost.  The  operating 
rooms  were  made  ready,  the  long  tables  were 
cleared,  the  surgeons  put  on  their  white  gowns, 
laid  out  their  shining  instruments,  chose  their 

assistants.     When    the    forty    nurses    reported 

62 


THE  STRAITS  OF  DEATH 

for  duty  one  only  among  them  all  wore  the  uni- 
form of  a  trained  nurse,  Phyllis  Wood  of  the 
Buffalo  General  Hospital. 

"  I  would  have  exchanged  my  title  for  hers,'* 
Vera  said,  *'  and  what  would  I  not  have  given 
for  her  clinical  thermometer,  the  only  one  on 
board!" 

Later  I  saw  and  talked  with  Nurse  Phyllis 
herself:  '*  We  had  come  in  for  the  worst,  for 
the  wounded  that  were  brought  on  board 
the  *  Taormina  '  had  been  sotto  le  macerie 
for  days,"  she  said.  "  They  were  suffering  from 
intolerable  thirst  and  hunger.  Oh,  the  cries 
for  water,  the  screams  of  pain,  as  the  poor 
maimed  creatures  were  brought  on  board  in 
the  arms  of  the  soldiers  and  sailors.  The  first 
day  I  was  detailed  to  do  the  dressing  of  the 
wounds;  later  I  was  ordered  down  into  the  hold 
to  assist  Dr.  Guarneri,  the  chief  surgeon,  with 
the  operations.  Then  my  real  work  began. 
We  worked  at  the  rate  of  sixty  operations  a 
day,  all  sorts  of  settings,  every  conceivable 
fracture.  There  was  no  time  to  give  anesthet- 
ics (indeed  we  had  none  to  give) ,  yet  we  hardly 
heard  a  murmur  from  these  poor  lips.     We  had 

two   extemporized    operating   tables    and    two 

63 


SICILY  IN   SHADOW  AND   IN  SUN 

young  doctors  worked  with  me  under  Guarneri. 
Sometimes  it  seemed  impossible  to  keep  up  with 
the  work,  to  have  the  dressings  and  antiseptics 
ready;  but  Guarneri  is  a  splendid  surgeon,  full 
of  energy  and  enthusiasm,  so  calm  and  self- 
possessed  that  we  worked  under  him  unconscious 
of  time  or  of  fatigue;  our  hours  were  from  six 
in  the  morning  till  one  at  night." 

There  was  work  for  doctors  and  nurses  among 
the  rescuers  as  well  as  among  the  rescued. 
Many  of  the  brave  soldiers  and  sailors,  who  had 
worked  with  splendid  courage  and  devotion, 
died  from  gangrene  caused  by  handling  the 
decomposing  bodies;  the  death  of  one  of  these 
heroes  stands  clear  in  the  nurse's  memory.  A 
young  lieutenant  of  Bersaglieri  was  brought  on 
board  the  "  Taormina,"  dying  from  a  hemor- 
rhage brought  on  by  his  tremendous  exertions. 

*'  He  was  conscious  to  the  last,"  the  nurse 
said.  "  We  had  no  time  to  undress  him,  so  he 
lay  in  his  uniform  and  we  placed  his  sword  be- 
side him.  He  was  only  one  of  many  who  laid 
down  their  lives!  " 

"  I  had  for  my  helper,"  Nurse  Phyllis  went  on, 

"  a  young  Roman  belle,  not  twenty  years  old, 

with  no  more  knowledge  of  nursing  than  a  baby. 

64 


THE   STRAITS   OF  DEATH 

She  stood  up  to  her  work  Hke  a  veteran  —  it 
was  not  easy;  no  American  girl  of  that  sort 
could  have  done  what  she  did." 

Those  days  on  the  "  Taormina  "  were  not  easy 
days  for  the  Red  Cross  ladies,  but  I  do  not 
think  one  of  them  would  be  willing  to  give  up 
the  experience  they  brought.  Whatever  else 
was  lacking,  on  board  the  hospital  ship  they  had 
splendid  surgical  skill,  for  the  Italian  surgeons 
are  among  the  best  in  the  world.  In  this  dire 
emergency  the  national  characteristic,  the  ca- 
pacity of  working  on  a  spurt,  came  into  play. 
Soon  help  came  to  the  "  Taormina  "  from  the 
other  ships  already  on  the  ground;  one  sent 
sterilized  gauze,  another  sent  bandages,  a  third 
medicines,  a  fourth  a  supply  of  vaseline. 

*'  The  English  Jackies  from  a  neighboring 
ship,"  said  Phyllis,  "  made  and  sent  us  a  quan- 
tity of  long  white  garments  for  our  poor  naked 
patients;  they  were  very  primitive,  made  of  a 
long  piece  of  white  cloth  with  two  seams  and  a 
hole  for  the  head,  but  we  were  mighty  glad  to 
get  them." 

How  like  the  decent  English  this  was;  how 
I  should  have  loved  to  see  the  dear  sailors  sit- 
ting on  deck  sewing  the  long  seams ! 

65 


SICILY  IN   SHADOW  AND   IN  SUN 

While  Vera  was  with  the  Red  Cross  at  Mes- 
sina, there  was  a  rumor  that  the  authorities 
had  decided  to  destroy  what  was  left  of  the  city. 

"  Each  day  we  heard  a  new  report,"  Vera 
said,  "  till  we  did  not  know  what  to  believe. 
Your  friend,  the  Avvocato  Bonanno,  brought 
us  one  of  the  most  startling  rumors.  I  re- 
member his  saying,  '  We  count  the  dead  by  tens 
of  thousands.  How  can  they  be  decently  buried, 
how  can  a  pestilence  be  prevented?  There  is 
but  one  way  to  complete  the  destruction  the 
earthquake  has  wrought.  We  should  send 
away  the  few  survivors,  then  let  the  warships 
bombard  this  vestige  of  a  city  till  the  last  walls 
crumble,  fall,  and  bury  together  the  city  and 
its  dead.'  " 

News  from  Taormina  at  last  —  the  city,  not 
the  ship !  Letters  began  to  come  to  us  in  Rome 
from  one  and  another  of  our  people  there, 
letters  that  gave  us  glimpses  of  their  experiences 
and  the  work  they  were  doing.  My  old  friend 
Anne  Lee  of  Boston  wrote : 

"  I  was  wakened  by  the  earthquake  but  not 
very  much  frightened  at  first.     I  did  get  up 

and  go  to  the  window  to  watch  the  sea.     It  was 

66 


THE  STRAITS  OF  DEATH 

terrible  to  hear  and  most  curious.  Out  in  the 
bay  there  was  a  wide  circle  of  whitish  yellow 
light  which  stayed  in  one  place;  it  looked  like 
moonlight,  but  there  was  no  moon,  and  it  was 
round,  not  straight  like  the  wake  of  a  star.  I 
could  see  the  waves  breaking  high  on  the  shore. 
In  no  time  the  poor  contadini  were  coming  out 
of  their  houses  over  on  the  hills  with  their  lan- 
terns; they  looked  like  Will  o'  the  wisps;  they 
were  hurrying  over  to  the  town  for  protection. 
The  big  quaking  lasted  forty  seconds,  but  we 
had  small  ones  all  day.  The  town  was  in  a 
panic;  men,  women,  and  children  ran  out  into 
the  streets  without  anything  on,  or  trying  to 
struggle  into  their  clothes.  Some  of  their  shirts 
were  upside  down;  all  were  screaming  with 
fright.  They  crowded  into  the  churches  by 
hundreds.  At  eight  I  heard  music;  I  went  to 
the  window  and  saw  a  procession  marching 
down  the  narrow  street  that  runs  along  by  the 
old  Roman  wall.  First  came  the  Misericordia, 
dressed  in  white  with  red  shoulder  capes 
carrying  lighted  candles.  On  a  paso  was  San 
Pancrazio  dressed  as  a  bishop,  with  two  rows 
of   candles    burning    before    him.    As    soon   as 

they  were   in  sight   of    the   sea    they  stopped 

67 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND  IN  SUN 

and   cried    out    a     prayer    and    waved    their 

hands  towards  the  sea;    they   went    on    again 

to    the    end    of    the    street,    waving   towards 

Etna    standing   against    the    blue   sky    Hke    a 

great   white    pyramid    with    a    mass    of    new 

fallen  snow  on  the  summit.     It  was  glorious. 

The   band  was  playing  a  slow  muffled  march, 

the  other  instruments  stopping  while  the  muffled 

drum  carried  on  the  time  with  slow  steady  taps. 

Before  San  Pancrazio   walked    the   Archpriest 

with  his  two  assistants  carrying  lighted  candles, 

then  came  the  great  crow  d  of  men,  women  and 

children,  the  white   Carmelite  nuns,   and  the 

yellow  and  red  handkerchiefs  of  the  peasants 

making  spots  of  color  in  the  dark  mass;    they 

were  all  so  terrified  and  earnest  looking!     They 

took  San  Pancrazio  from  his  own   church   to 

the  cathedral  to  wait  and  protect  them  for  a 

while  until   Saint  Peter  could   be  brought  to 

join  him.     About  five  o'clock  in  the  afternoon 

they  brought  Saint  Peter  with  the  same  sort 

of  procession,  only  more  people,  and  placed  the 

two  cousins  opposite  each  other  in  the  cathedral. 

At  the  mass  the  church  was  packed  Vith  people 

kissing    their    hands    and    crossing    themselves 

when  they  passed  the  statues.     My  poor  old 

68 


THE   STRAITS  OF  DEATH 

cook  Venera  spent  most  of  the  day  on  her  knees. 
Down  at  the  Httle  town  of  Giardini  there  was 
a  cloudburst  a  few  weeks  before  the  earthquake. 
Some  of  the  houses  were  entirely  crushed  or 
buried.  After  the  earthquake  a  fearful  tidal 
wave  took  the  water  out  to  sea  over  twenty 
feet,  then  it  rushed  back  and  inundated  the 
town,  breaking  and  spoiling  all  that  the  deluge 
had  spared  and  sweeping  the  fishing  boats  out 
to  sea.  Before  the  quake  the  people  in  Giardini 
saw  two  flashes  of  lightning;  they  saw  a  great 
fiery  dragon  pass  over  towards  Calabria,  and 
queer  little  dancing  light  spots  as  if  the  water 
were  boiling. 

"  Since  Tuesday  all  the  English  and  Americans 
and  a  few  Sicilians  have  been  working  night 
and  day  down  at  the  station,  feeding  and  water- 
ing the  sick,  wounded,  and  dying  on  the  end- 
less trains  passing  through  from  Messina  to 
Catania.  Many  refugees  have  been  left  here; 
one  woman  gave  birth  to  a  dear  little  boy  at 
the  station.  The  American  and  English  are 
organizing  committees  to  help  the  sick  and 
wounded  who  remain  here  in  Taormina.  Miss 
Swan  and  I  are  on  the  cooking  committee;    we 

go  Wednesdays  and  Fridays  and  tend  the  cook- 

69 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND   IN   SUN 

ing  of  a  great  kettle  of  pasta,  or  beans,  or  rice. 
Some  take  the  food  home;  others  eat  it  in  the 
old  deserted  church  near  the  clock  tower,  that 
used  to  be  used  as  a  school.  We  give  them 
cheese,  wine,  and  clothing  —  some  of  them 
have  never  before  been  so  well  fed  or  clothed. 
Many  grumbled  because  they  did  not  have 
meat,  and  didn't  like  their  clothes  —  they  are 
already  sadly  spoiled.  The  news  was  brought 
by  a  sailor  who  walked  from  Messina;  he  told 
us  that  Messina  was  destroyed  and  thousands 
killed.  Mr.  Wood  went  over  Tuesday  morning 
to  see  if  he  could  find  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Cheney. 
The  great  palace  where  they  lived  was  a  mass 
of  rubbish.  He  could  look  into  what  had  been 
their  parlor  and  just  see  a  corner  of  a  piece  of 
their  beautiful  antique  furniture,  a  mirror 
still  hanging  on  the  wall,  one  of  the  yellow  dam- 
ask silk  curtains  hanging  out  of  the  window. 
When  they  found  the  dear  little  woman  they 
only  recognized  her  by  the  locket  she  always 
wore." 

The  Cheneys  had  spent  Christmas  at  Palermo, 
where  their  friends  had  urged  them  to  stay 
longer,  but  they  had  felt  obliged  to  return  to 

Messina. 

70 


THE  STRAITS  OF  DEATH 

"  As  the  trains  came  into  the  station  the  first 
cry  was  '  Water,  water.*  Six  hundred  or  more 
were  put  off  here  at  Taormina.  We  went 
down  to  the  station  at  ten,  worked  there  all 
day  and  did  not  get  home  till  eleven  or 
twelve  at  night.  There  were  five  or  six  trains 
during  the  day  and  as  many  during  the  night. 
The  first  week  was  the  hardest  work  and 
kept  us  all  jumping.  In  a  few  days  we 
got  settled  and  organized  into  committees. 
There  were  about  three  groups  all  working 
for  the  same  thing,  but  each  head  was  afraid 
some  other  head  would  get  the  greater  credit 
and  praise.  Truth  is,  we  were  all  working 
for  humanity,  to  try  and  give  the  poor  scared 
hungry  souls  food  and  drink  and  homes;  it 
didn't  matter  whether  it  was  A,  B  or  C;  they 
all  did  splendid  work  and  all  worked  with  all 
their  souls,  and  every  one,  including  the  Sicilian 
ladies  and  people  from  Russia,  Germany,  Aus- 
tria and  France,  was  only  too  glad  to  help. 
We  gave  away  over  three  hundred  loaves  of 
bread  a  day,  crackers,  oranges,  cooked  polenta, 
everything  that  could  be  found  to  eat,  milk, 
water  and  wine,  all  paid  for  by  the  forestieri, 

and  a  few  of  the  townspeople.     They  were  so 

71 


SICILY  IN   SHADOW  AND   IN  SUN 

much  dazed  for  the  most  that  it  took  them  ten 
days  to  '  come  to.'  So  many  had  lost  friends 
that  at  first  they  could  think  of  nothing  else, 
and  some  were  perfectly  willing  to  stand  by 
and  let  the  strangers  do  the  work.  The  first 
official  action  of  the  town  authorities  was  on 
the  eleventh  day.  I  looked  up  from  boiling 
some  coffee  for  a  train  that  was  coming,  and 
there  stood  the  Mayor  and  two  or  three  other 
short  fat  fathers  of  the  town  all  talking  at  the 
tops  of  their  voices,  their  hands  and  arms  going 
in  every  direction.  They  were  perfectly  pur- 
ple in  the  face  and  looked  like  so  many  ban- 
tam cocks  ready  to  tear  each  other  to  pieces. 
I  asked  what  the  matter  was? 

"  The  Mayor  and  the  municipality  had  come 
down  to  forbid  any  more  bread  or  food  being 
given  away;  there  would  be  a  bread  famine, 
a  wheat  famine;  we  were  taking  the  bread  out 
of  the  mouths  of  the  Taorminesi,  and  soon  there 
would  be  a  mob  and  the  people  would  break 
into  our  houses.  We  had  on  hand  three  hun- 
dred loaves  of  bread  bought,  paid  for,  and 
broken  up.  In  spite  of  the  city  fathers  the 
bread  was  given  to  the  refugees  on  the  next 

train.     Then  there  was  a  rumor  that  the  milk 

72 


THE   STRAITS   OF  DEATH 

had  given  out.  Just  before  I  reached  the 
station  that  day  I  met  three  men  driving  a 
herd  of  twenty  goats;  they  had  escaped  with 
their  goats  from  Messina.  The  milk  was  bar- 
gained for  and  fifteen  quarts,  good  and  fresh, 
was  milked  from  the  goats  and  paid  for  by 
some  Boston  girls." 

A  young  lady,  whose  name  is  I  think  Miss 
Fernald,  wrote  the  following  story  of  what  she 
saw  at  that  station  of  Giardini  to  her  brother: 

"  The  first  train  from  Messina.     Oh,  George, 

you  can  never  imagine  the  horror  of  that  first 

train!     It    squirmed    through    the   tunnel    like 

an  injured  worm,  and  stopped  at  our  station 

crammed    jammed    with    dying,    crushed    and 

bleeding   humanity,  leaving   a  trail   of   human 

blood  as  it  wound  its  way  from  Messina.     We 

had  provided  ourselves  with  bandages,  brandy, 

wine,  bread,  milk.     As  soon  as  the  train  stopped 

we  rushed  to  the  windows  and  doors  with  our 

supplies.     I  shall  never  forget  the  roar  of  this 

groaning  humanity  wildly  screaming  for  water 

and  doctors.     People  were  dying  every  moment, 

stretcher  after  stretcher  was  brought  in   and 

gently  laid  down  in  the  station.    Dr.  and  Mrs. 

Dashwood    (English    residents    of    Taormina) 

73 


SICILY   IN  SHADOW  AND   IN  SUN 

were  angels  in  the  work  of  rescue;  they  brought 
four  babies  into  the  world  at  the  station.  We 
turned  the  place  into  a  hospital  in  the  twin- 
kling of  an  eye;  soon  the  building  was  packed 
with  the  injured  and  dying.  Delirious  women, 
women  gone  mad  from  fright,  wounded  children, 
and  gentlemen,  so  patient  and  grateful.  It  made 
my  heart  ache  to  hear  their  humble  thanks  for 
what  was  being  done  to  comfort  them.  One 
train  we  entered  had  a  basket  with  twelve  or 
fifteen  babies,  five  of  whom  had  died  on  the  way 
from  Messina.  The  hour's  journey  had  taken 
nine  hours  because  of  the  many  washouts. 
One  beautiful  young  lady,  who,  no  one  knew, 
died  at  the  station;  they  called  her  '  a  princess.' 
Every  person  from  the  villas  went  down  with 
huge  supplies  of  food.  There  was  hot  soup 
and  cocoa,  besides  bread  and  fruit.  We  girls 
spent  three  nights  and  three  days  at  the  station 
and  saved  many  lives  by  giving  nourishment 
and  what  comfort  was  possible  to  half  naked 
and  starving  people.  The  trains  returning  to 
Messina  were  crowded  with  people  looking  for 
their  families,  and  also  with  a  bad  set  of  thieves. 
We  have  a  regiment  now  at  the    station  and 

soldiers  all  along  the  beach  to  Messina.     Any 

74 


THE   STRAITS   OF   DEATH 

one  seen  in  the  ruined  city  without  a  passport 
is  shot  on  sight.  Our  new  year's  eve  was  spent 
resting  on  sacks  of  figs  at  the  station,  administer- 
ing to  and  comforting  the  poor  crazed  women 
and  children,  and  waiting  for  the  next  train. 
I  can't  write  of  the  effect  of  this  dreadful  spec- 
tacle. Now  things  are  more  systematic  as 
regards  our  work.  It  was  my  duty  to  go  about 
and  find  the  poor  wretches  who  had  wandered 
into  Taormina.  I  found  in  one  church  five 
sisters  who  had  found  their  way  with  great 
difficulty  from  Messina.  The  distance  is  nearly 
thirty  miles.  They  were  thinly  clad  and  in  a 
starving  condition.  The  natives  here  have 
responded  to  the  call  fairly  well  and  clothes 
have  come  in  —  but  such  rags.  However,  new 
ones  are  being  made  and  distributed  as  fast 
as  possible.  The  Prince  of  Cherami  of  the  San 
Domenico  is  doing  wonderful  work  as  well  as 
the  villa  people.  All  the  visitors  have  fled 
from  Taormina,  the  hotels  are  entirely  deserted 
and  will  of  course  be  closed.  At  the  station  I 
saw  a  woman  with  a  cage  of  twelve  birds;  she 
had  lost  all  her  five  children.  We  have  felt 
shocks  for  five  days.     Most  of  the  villa  people 

are  trembling  with  fear.    What  is  to  be  done 

75 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND   IN  SUN 

with  these  homeless  wretched  people?  God 
only  knows.  It's  over  a  week  now  since  the 
earthquake;  the  trains  still  come  in  filled  to 
overflowing  with  injured  taken  every  day  from 
the  ruins." 

"  The  German  battle-ship  *  Serapim,'  "  says 
Miss  Lee,  "  brought  a  great  number  of  refugees. 
One  music  hall  singer  had  her  little  canary  on 
her  finger;  the  little  creature  was  singing,  the 
only  happy  thing  on  that  dreadful  ship.  I 
worked  for  over  three  weeks  at  the  station  of 
Giardini.  One  night  Mr.  Kitson  was  going 
through  the  Red  Cross  car,  helping  with  milk, 
wine  and  so  forth.  At  the  end  of  the  car  was 
a  large  clothes  basket  full  of  little  new-born 
babies,  two  dead,  three  or  five  alive,  and  noth- 
ing to  cover  them  or  keep  them  warm,  so  the 
dead  ones  had  been  kept  for  that.  They  had 
been  born  on  the  train  and  had  had  no  one  to 
tend  them,  poor  little  souls.  It  made  him 
perfectly  sick  and  was,  we  think,  partly  respon- 
sible for  his  long  illness.  I  was  kept  in  the 
surgical  ward  room  to  have  the  water  ready 
for  the  doctors  and  so  I  did  not  see  all  the  hor- 
rors as  those  did  who  went  through  the  cars  — 

I  was  spared  that,  thank  God." 

76 


Ill 

AMERICA  TO  THE  RESCUE 

On  the  first  of  January,  three  days  after  the 
great  earthquake,  a  band  of  Calabrians,  Hving 
in  New  York,  flashed  this  message  across  the 
Atlantic  to  their  mother  country: 

"Do  not  forget  Scylla!" 

Scylla,  how  the  old  name  thrills!  Scylla  had 
suffered  severely,  though  its  gray  castle,  perched 
high  on  the  cliff  that  rises  sheer  from  the  shore, 
was  spared.  Scylla,  the  ancient  village  at  the 
foot  of  the  purple  Calabrian  mountains,  was  not 
forgotten,  nor  Reggio,  nor  the  white  fishing 
hamlets  that  line  the  tawny  shores  of  Sicily  and 
Calabria  on  either  side  of  the  restless  straits. 
The  people  of  the  coast  were  soonest  reached 
and  soonest  helped  by  the  sailors  of  the  passing 
ships,  for  the  navies  of  the  world  flew  on  the 
wings  of  love  and  pity  to  succor  the  stricken 
ports.  Never  were  ships  watched  for  with 
such  eagerness,  never  were  sailors  greeted  with 

such  passionate   rapture   since  Theseus   sailed 

77 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND  IN  SUN 

back  from  Crete  to  Athens  with  his  precious 
freight  of  Athenian  youths  and  maidens,  saved 
from  the  dreadful  Minotaur.  The  people  who 
lived  in  the  hills  and  valleys  of  the  interior 
suffered  longest,  were  last  relieved;  but  even  to 
them  help  came,  for  the  sailors  were  faithful 
and  carried  the  world's  bounty  to  the  desolate 
inland  towns  of  Sicily  and  Calabria.  The 
story  of  their  labor  of  love  would  fill  an  encyclo- 
pedia. This  is  the  story  of  the  American  relief 
ship  "  Bayern,"  that  brought  comfort  and  hope 
to  the  forlorn  survivors  of  the  great  earthquake; 
to  tell  the  story  clearly,  we  must  go  back  to 
Rome  where  the  cruise  was  planned. 

Saturday  afternoon,  January  second,  the 
Via  Quattro  Fontane,  in  the  neighborhood 
of  the  American  Embassy,  was  crowded  with 
carriages,  cabs  and  automobiles.  The  tall  hand- 
some porter  of  the  Palazzo  del  Drago  was  on 
duty  in  full  dress;  he  wore  a  long  broadcloth 
overcoat  that  came  down  to  his  feet,  a 
black  cocked  hat  with  a  cockade  of  red,  white 
and  blue.  His  mighty  staff  of  office,  a  cer- 
tain grand  air  he  has,  make  him  a  formida- 
ble   personage    to    those    who    have    no    real 

business  at  the  palace.     Once  you  are  known  to 

78 


AMERICA  TO  THE   RESCUE 

this  Cerberus,  he  has  no  terrors  for  you;  he  is 
gentle  by  nature  as  such  big  men  so  often  are. 

"  Can  I  see  the  Ambassador?  "  I  asked  the 
porter. 

"  That  I  cannot  promise,  lady.  He  has  just 
returned  from  the  Quirinal;  there  are  many 
persons  waiting  to  see  him,  but  —  "he  raised 
his  shoulders  with  the  Latin  gesture  that  ex- 
presses doubt — "who  knows .^  The  Signora 
can  but  try."  He  stood  back,  made  me  a  splen- 
did bow  with  as  fine  a  flourish  of  his  tricorne 
as  if  I  had  been  a  princess,  and  the  way  was 
free.  I  entered  the  handsome  portojie,  walked 
through  the  long  marble  gallery,  past  the  court- 
yard where  the  noise  of  the  fountain  sounds 
like  the  trampling  of  impatient  steeds,  past  the 
twin  lions  of  giallo  antico  that  guard  the  en- 
trance, and  up  the  magnificent  stairway  leading 
to  the  piano  nobile,  the  home  of  the  American 
Ambassador.  At  the  door  of  the  apartment  I 
was  met  by  another  of  those  prodigious  serving 
men  —  the  giants  of  the  American  Embassy 
were  the  talk  of  Rome  that  winter  —  they  were 
recruited  from  the  ex-cuirassiers  of  the  King's 
own   body    guard,   the   glorious   hundred,    the 

shortest  of  whom  is  six  feet  tall. 

79 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND   IN  SUN 

"  Her  Excellency  would  receive  me;  as  to 
his  Excellency,  it  was  just  possible.  The  ladies 
were  in  the  dancing  hall."  He  waved  me  to- 
wards the  mirrored  gallery.  I  paused  a  moment 
to  stare  about  the  great  anticamera,  big  enough 
to  hold  an  ordinary  embassy.  At  one  end  there 
is  a  wide  fireplace,  over  which,  instead  of  armor- 
ial bearings,  our  Eagle  spreads  its  mighty  shel- 
tering wings.  This  splendid  anticamera  was 
in  strange  confusion,  crowded  with  packing 
cases,  piled  half-way  to  the  ceiling  with  bales 
of  goods,  boxes  of  clothing,  boots,  food,  medi- 
cines, relief  supplies  of  all  kinds.  Every  able- 
bodied  American  in  Rome  was  working  pro 
Sicilia  e  Calabria,  and  the  Ambassador's  home 
was  not  only  the  nerve-center  of  the  relief  work 
but  a  warehouse,  a  base  of  supplies. 

From  the  ballroom  came  the  sound  of 
women's  voices,  the  snip-snip  of  shears,  the 
click  of  sewing  machines.  Here  was  another 
transformation;  the  sumptuous  ballroom  with 
the  smooth  polished  floor  had  become  a  busy 
workroom.  Under  the  gilt  chandelier  stood 
a  long  table,  heaped  with  bales  of  flannel  and 
cloth,  over   which  Jeaned   four   or  five  ladies, 

scissors   in   hand,   cutting   out   skirts,   blouses 

80 


AMERICA   TO  THE   RESCUE 

and  jackets.  On  the  satin-covered  benches 
sat  a  bevy  of  young  women  and  girls,  bast- 
ing, sewing,  planning,  and  chatting  as  they 
worked. 

"  I  have  nothing  left  but  red  flannel,"  said 
the  chief  cutter-out,  "  what  shall  I  do  with  it.'*  '* 

*'  Petticoats  and  under  jackets,"  said  the 
Doctor's  wife.  "  We  must  put  all  the  colored 
goods  into  under-clothing.  The  poor  things 
beg  so  for  black  dresses.  You  wouldn't  want 
to  wear  red  or  blue  if  you  had  lost  twenty -five 
members  of  your  family,  as  my  profughi  have." 

*'  Still  we  must  use  what  material  we  have. 
Let  us  keep  the  black  for  our  'profughi  here  in 
Rome  and  send  the  colored  things  down  there 
where  the  need  is  greater  and  they  cannot  be  so 
particular." 

The  scene  was  typical  of  Rome,  of  Italy,  of 
the  civilized  world  at  that  time.  In  every 
home,  rich  or  poor,  in  every  country,  women  of 
all  classes  were  sewing  for  those  naked  wretches 
who  had  escaped  from  the  great  earthquake  with 
nothing  but  their  lives.  In  the  Palace  of  the 
Quirinal  the  little  princesses,  Jolanda  and 
Mafalda,  sat  up  in  their  high  chairs,  stitching 

busily  for  the  children  of  the  stricken  South. 

SI 


SICILY  IN   SHADOW  AND   IN   SUN 

The  fury  of  benevolence  that  had  driven  men 
and  women  all  over  the  world  into  some  action, 
some  sacrifice,  for  their  suffering  brothers,  was 
being  organized,  had  become  the  great  driving 
force  that  should  compel  some  sort  of  order  out 
of  chaos  unparalleled.  When  it  grew  too  dark 
to  see  in  the  ballroom  the  friendly  giant  lighted 
the  chandelier  and  the  candles  in  the  gilt  sconces. 
As  he  passed  me  he  murmured: 

"  If  the  Signora  can  wait  till  the  other  ladies 
have  gone  her  Excellency  —  " 

"  Of  course  I  can  wait."  I  settled  down  to 
overcast  the  seams  of  a  black  woolen  frock. 

"  Do  you  know  where  one  can  buy  handker- 
chiefs? "  asked  the  chief  cutter-out.  "  Every 
shop  I  tried  today  was  sold  out.  All  Sicilians 
use  handkerchiefs,  even  the  poorest;  it's  one 
of  their  good  points.  I  was  at  the  station  this 
morning  helping  the  English  Committee  — 
they  meet  every  train  from  Naples  that  brings 
*  survivors,*  and  fit  out  the  poor  things  with 
shoes  and  clothes.  Some  of  them  were  half 
naked;  one  pretty  girl  —  a  perfect  Hebe  —  was 
dressed  in  an  officer's  uniform.  The  poor  souls 
cry  so  one  has  to  give  them  one's  own  handker- 
chief; I  have  hardly  one  left!  " 

82 


AMERICA  TO  THE  RESCUE 

**  Ask  the  Ambassadress;  she  knows  more 
about  what's  left  in  Rome  than  anybody,"  said 
the  Doctor's  wife.  Then  in  an  undertone  to 
me:  "  It's  wonderful  how  she  takes  the  lead  and 
tlje  rest  of  us  all  fall  in  line;  she  makes  us  lose 
sight  of  the  woman  in  the  Ambassadress;  she's 
taken  command  of  the  scattered  forces  of  the 
colony  like  a  generalissimo;  she's  proclaimed  an 
armistice  to  internecine  strife.  Look  at  those 
two  women,  the  lamb  and  the  wolf  cutting 
out  together;  it  took  the  earthquake  and 
Mrs.  Griscom  to  bring  that  about!  " 

"  Time  to  go  home,"  said  the  chief  cutter- 
out,  as  the  cracked  bells  of  San  Bernardo's 
rang  six.  "  My  hands  ache  with  the  weight  of 
these  shears;  this  is  the  best  day's  work  we 
have  done." 

One  by  one,  the  ladies,  colonials  and  tran- 
sients, fashionable  and  unfashionable,  took  their 
leave.  When  all  had  gone,  the  giant  ushered 
me  into  the  yellow  drawing-room,  where  I 
found  her  Excellency  seated  in  a  low  chair 
before  the  fire  making  tea.  She  greeted  me 
with  her  flashing  smile  and  bade  me  welcome. 

I  asked  for  news  of  those  who  had  gone  down 

to  the  city  of  the  dreadful  night;  we  had  heard 

83 


SICILY  IN   SHADOW  AND   IN   SUN 

nothing  of  Major  Landis,  Mr.  Cutting,  Mr. 
Chanler  and  the  others  who  had  gone  to  Messina 
the  Thursday  before. 

"No  news  —  but  from  home,  oh,  so  much! 
It  is  as  we  all  knew  it  would  be;  we  shall  do 
our  share." 

Rumor  already  had  it  that  great  sums  of 
money  had  been  cabled  from  America,  both  to 
the  Ambassador  and  to  the  Italian  Red  Cross. 
If  that  money  was  to  be  well  spent,  the  Ambas- 
sador's work  was  cut  out  for  him,  as  hard  work 
as  even  he  could  covet. 

A  few  moments  later  Mr.  Griscom  came  in 
and  asked  his  wife  for  a  cup  of  tea.  His  Ex- 
cellency's dark  inscrutable  face  showed  fatigue; 
the  veiled  fire  of  the  eyes  was  nearer  the  sur- 
face than  usual,  the  clear-cut  lips  were  com- 
pressed. As  the  Doctor's  wife  said,  it  was 
fortunate  for  us  that  we  had  these  strong  young 
people  to  take  the  lead  in  the  American  relief 
work.  From  the  first  they  bore  the  brunt 
gallantly;  work  as  hard  as  their  helpers  might, 
they  out-stripped  all  others,  gave  with  a  lavish 
hand,  power,  sympathy,  wit,  energy,  health;  in 
a  word  they  gave  themselves.     We  turned  to 

them  as  to  our  natural  leaders  in  all  large  and 

84 


AMERICA  TO  THE   RESCUE 

even  in  small  questions.  It  had  seemed  to  me 
the  most  natural  thing  in  the  world  that,  having 
given  away  all  our  available  cash  and  all  the 
clothes  we  could  spare,  I  should  go  to  the 
Embassy  to  beg  for  my  profughiy  the  family  of 
Francesco  Calabresi,  the  plumber  from  Messina. 

"  You  have  received  large  sums  of  money 
from  home,"  I  said  to  Mr.  Griscom. 

"  Yes,"  he  looked  at  me  steadily,  ready  to 
guard  the  treasure  from  the  most  desperate 
assault.  He  listened  patiently  to  my  story  of 
the  Calabresi  family,  to  my  plea  for  money 
to  buy  clothes  and  a  cradle  for  the  imminent 
baby,  and  plumber's  tools  to  set  Francesco 
up  in  business  before  he  should  become  de- 
moralized by  the  dreadful  Roman  system  of 
paying  so  much  per  capita  every  day  to  each 
family  of  profughi,  without  demanding  any 
work  in  return  for  the  money.  First  to  lose 
everything  they  owned,  then  to  be  robbed  of 
their  habit  of  self-dependence  was  the  cruel 
fate  of  too  many. 

"  We  must  help  these  poor  people  to  help 
themselves,"  said  the  Ambassador,  sounding 
the  key-note  of  the  American  relief  work  from 

first  to  last.    Then  very  kindly  he  pointed  out 

85 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND  IN  SUN 

to  me  that  my  interest  in  an  individual  case 
made  me  lose  sight  of  the  fact  that  he  must 
deal  with  the  situation  as  a  whole.  The  Ameri- 
can funds  must  be  distributed  with  method  and 
exactness;  the  generous  help  our  country  was 
sending  must  be  well  spent;  his  work  was  to 
lay  out  the  general  scheme,  the  detail  was  for 
others;  he  had  appointed  an  American  Relief 
Committee;  they  had  held  their  first  meeting 
that  morning. 

I  saw  it  all  then  in  a  flash,  got  a  sense  of 
some  great  plan  maturing,  and  took  my  leave, 
mortified  enough  that  I  should  have  troubled 
the  god-in-the-machine  with  a  mere  detail. 

The  next  day,  Sunday,  was  like  a  poem  bound 
in  blue  and  gold.  I  went  up  on  the  terrace  to 
gather  the  last  chrysanthemums  that  had  es- 
caped the  frost,  and  to  loosen  the  soil  about 
the  first  hyacinth,  whose  close-furled  pointed 
leaves  pricked  through  the  brown  mould.  Below 
the  Tiber  rolled,  a  tawny  flood,  under  the 
arches  of  the  Ponte  Margherita.  Across  the 
river  the  angel  of  the  Castel  Sant'  Angelo  lifted 
his  bronze  sword  over  the  tomb  of  Hadrian,  the 
dome  of  St.  Peter's  showed  like  a  pale  blue 

bubble  against  the  deeper  blue  of  the  sky;   the 

86 


AMERICA  TO  THE  RESCUE 

bells  of  Rome  rocked  and  pealed  in  their  towers, 
calling  the  people  to  mass.  From  the  barracks 
in  the  Prati  di  Castello  the  bugles  sounded,  and 
a  regiment  swung  down  the  white  road  by  the 
Tiber,  past  the  statue  of  Ciceruacchio,  and  over 
the  bridge  to  the  gay  music  of  the  royal  march. 
I  was  leaning  over  the  parapet  to  watch  the 
soldiers  out  of  sight,  when  Agnese  called  me 
downstairs. 

"  A  messenger  from  the  Embassy,  Signora, 
with  a  bundle  so  large  we  had  to  open  both 
sides  of  the  portone  to  let  it  pass!  " 

I  hurried  down  in  time  to  thank  the  good- 
natured  giant  for  the  gigantic  parcel  he  had 
brought.  Agnese  cut  the  strings  and  handed  me 
a  card  with  a  line  in  pencil  signed  Elizabeth 
Griscom. 

"  Signora,  it  is  a  cradle  but  of  an  unimagi- 
nable fineness !  Observe  the  pillow  case,  it  is  of 
linen.  This  is  a  blanket  for  a  queen's  son;  and 
these  garments,  truly  they  are  fit  for  a  queen's 
children,  no  less!  They  doubtless  belonged  to 
that  small  angel  with  the  eyes  of  his  beautiful 
mother,  whom  I  saw  when  I  took  a  letter  to  the 
Ambassadress?      Consider,  Signora,   are  these 

magnificences  fitting  for  the  infant  of  a  plumber? 

87 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND  IN  SUN 

Madonna  mia!  It  is  turning  to  their  account 
this  business  of  the  earthquake!  This  dress,  it 
is  quite  new;  you  yourself  could  wear  it  — 
the  color  would  suit  you,  or  we  could  have  it 
dyed  a  dark  purple." 

What  the  Ambassador  could  not  do,  the 
Ambassadress  had  done.  Besides  the  dainty 
cradle,  the  blankets,  jackets  and  other  baby 
luxuries  such  as  neither  Lucia  nor  Agnese  had 
ever  dreamed  of,  there  was  a  little  knitted  shawl 
for  poor  old  Rosina,  and  good  warm  dresses  for 
the  plumber's  wife  and  mother.  Agnese  was 
right;  the  pretty  baby  finery  belonged  to  the 
little  son  born  to  the  Ambassador  during  his 
first  months  of  office  in  Rome.  There  is  a 
story  that  the  King,  on  being  told  that  Mrs. 
Griscom  could  not  be  present  at  some  official 
reception  on  account  of  her  baby,  exclaimed  in 
astonishment : 

"  I  never  before  have  heard  of  an  Ambassa- 
dress with  a  baby!  " 

The  time  had  come  when  the  King,  the 
colony,  all  concerned  were  thankful  that  the 
American  Ambassador  and  Ambassadress  were 
young  people,  with   strong  young  nerves   and 

generous  young  hearts. 

88 


AMERICA  TO  THE   RESCUE 

"  Send  for  Napoleone,"  I  cried  to  Agnese. 
Napoleone  the  cabman  can  only  be  reached 
through  the  connivance  of  a  clerk  of  Fasani, 
the  grocer  in  the  Piazza  de  Spagna.  Napoleone 
is  very  "  black  "  and  has  the  superior  manners 
of  the  "  clericals." 

By  the  time  I  had  my  bonnet  on,  Agnese  an- 
nounced to  me  that  Napoleone  was  at  the 
door.  When  we  appeared  on  the  sidewalk  he 
was  deep  in  the  Popolo  Romano,  the  Vatican 
organ  which  he  reads  so  faithfully  that  J.  says 
he  often  loses  a  fare  from  being  too  much 
engrossed  in  his  newspaper. 

"  To  the  house  in  the  Via  Lamarmora  where 
you  took  me  the  other  day  to  visit  those  un- 
fortunate profugki/^  I  said. 

"  It  appears  to  me,  Signora,  that  they  have 
become  very  fortunate  people,*'  said  Napoleone, 
making  room  for  the  cradle  beside  him.  He 
whipped  up  his  strawberry  roan,  a  horse  with 
an  action  like  a  crab's,  as  unique  a  figure  in 
our  Rome  as  his  driver.  Napoleone's  eyes  were 
very  kind  when  he  helped  me  out  with  the 
cradle  and  the  big  bundle  of  clothes. 

"  I  will  wait  for  you,  Signora,  at  my  own  cost, 

one  understands.     Diamini!    we  must  all  do 

89 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND   IN  SUN 

something  for  these  unfortunate  prqfughi.*' 
Napoleone  smoothed  out  the  Popolo  Romano, 
put  a  nosebag  of  fodder  over  the  roan's  head 
and  prepared  to  wait  for  me,  at  his  own  expense ! 

When  the  porter's  wife  looked  out  from  her 
little  den  and  saw  the  big  bundle,  she  put  down 
the  dish  of  carciofi  she  was  preparing  for  her 
husband's  dinner  and  came  to  the  rescue. 

"  Per  carita,  Signora,  allow  me  to  carry  up 
that  great  big  bundle;  ask  the  padrona  to 
leave  the  door  open  till  I  come." 

The  padrona  di  casa  was  smartly  dressed 
and  freshly  powdered.  She  wore  huge  pearl 
and  diamond  peasant  earrings,  and  her  wonder- 
ful hair  with  its  thick  regular  waves  shone  like 
the  plumage  of  the  black  swan  in  the  Villa 
Borghese.  She  recognized  me  with  a  smile. 
"  Ah,  the  American  lady!  What  a  pleasure  to 
see  her  again!  "  She  motioned  me  to  the  room 
where  the  theatrical  costumes  had  been  packed 
closely  together  to  give  more  space.  The  light 
from  a  big  window  struck  across  the  gaunt  barn 
of  a  place  and  fell  on  a  group  in  the  center  that 
Andrea  del  Sarto  would  have  painted  as  a 
"  Visitation." 

Rosina,  the  wrinkled  old  woman,  looked  a 

90 


AMERICA   TO  THE   RESCUE 

perfect  Elizabeth  as  she  stood  there,  holding 
her  daughter-in-law  by  the  hand:  Lucia  would 
have  made  a  lovely  Mary.  The  young  woman 
saw  me  first.  She  came  towards  me  slowly, 
heavily,  took  my  hand  in  hers  and  with  a  strange 
solemnity  kissed  me  on  the  mouth;  Francesco, 
her  husband  (the  plumber),  followed  her  ex- 
ample. Caterina,  sitting  up  in  the  big  white 
bed,  smiled  at  me  with  a  radiant  inner  lighting 
of  the  face,  like  a  young  martyr.  Rosina 
mumbled  my  hand  with  her  withered  lips  and 
wiped  her  eyes  upon  a  black-bordered  hand- 
kerchief I  had  given  her;  all  this  was  before 
they  caught  a  glimpse  of  the  porter's  wife, 
toiling  upstairs  with  the  gigantic  bundle. 

I  was  the  first  stranger  who  had  come  into 
the  new  life  that  was  opening  before  them,  after 
they  had  passed  through  that  hell  of  suffering 
at  Messina.  The  shackles  of  convention  had 
dropped  from  them  in  that  elemental  expe- 
rience, that  fearful  convulsion  when  the  very 
earth  had  stoned  them.  They  met  me  as  equals 
on  the  ground  of  our  common  humanity;  they 
embraced  me  because  I  had  brought  them  help 
from  America,  the  land  of  hope.    When  we  grow 

old,  I  heard  a  poet  say,  we  count  the  treasure 

91 


SICILY  IN   SHADOW  AND   IN   SUN 

of  unforgotten  kisses  as  a  miser  counts  his  gold; 
In  the  coming  years  those  kisses,  given  for  my 
country's  sake,  will  shine  bright  in  my  im- 
perishable hoard. 

The  next  day,  Monday  morning,  January 
4th,  as  we  were  having  early  coffee,  Agnese 
brought  in  a  note. 

"Anything  interesting.?  "  I  asked,  as  J.  folded 
the  small  sheet  of  lilac  paper  and  put  it  back  in 
the  envelope.      "  It  looks  like  an  invitation." 

"  It  is,"  said  J.,  *'  one  I  shall  accept." 

I  must  have  looked  incredulous,  for  he  handed 
me  the  note.  It  was  from  one  of  the  ladies 
of  the  Embassy,  who  wrote  to  say  that  vol- 
unteers were  wanted  for  a  relief  ship  the  Amer- 
ican Committee  was  fitting  out.  This  was  the 
first  we  either  of  us  heard  of  the  expedition  of 
the  "  Bayern,"  that  a  few  days  later  thrilled 
all  Italy  and  America.  Ten  minutes  later  we 
were  in  Napoleone's  cab,  rattling  through  the 
Piazza  San  Bernardo.  As  we  passed  the  Hotel 
Europa  our  friend,  Mr.  Samuel  Parrish,  came 
out  of  the  door.  Mr.  Parrish,  a  distinguished 
New  York  lawyer,  had  come  to  Rome  to  pass 
a  quiet  winter,  to  improve  his  knowledge  of  the 

language  and  to  study  Italian   *'  primitives." 

92 


AMERICA  TO  THE   RESCUE 

It  seemed  rather  early  for  him  to  be  about, 
though  I  found  a  possible  explanation  for  this 
as  we  passed  the  flower-stand  of  the  Piazza 
Mignianelli,  brave  with  deep  purple  violets 
and  pale  winter  roses.  The  early  birds  get 
the  best  of  everything;  the  sunny  salon  at  the 
Europa,  where  our  friend  proposed  spending 
the  easy  restful  days  of  his  "  season  off,"  was 
always  filled  with  lovely  flowers  —  yes,  that 
was  it,  Mr.  Parrish  had  come  out  at  this  un- 
earthly hour  to  buy  his  flowers. 

In  the  Piazza  Barberini,  where  a  brisk  wind 
blew  the  spray  of  the  fountain  of  the  Triton 
half  across  the  square,  we  passed  Mr.  William 
Hooper  of  Boston,  hurrying  along;  Mr.  Hooper 
had  arrived  in  Rome  a  few  weeks  before  with 
his  wife  and  was  established  for  the  winter  in 
the  Hotel  Regina. 

At  the  office  of  the  American  Embassy  we 

were  received  by  the  smiling  usher,  who  showed 

us  into  the  waiting  room,  threw  a  lump  of  soft 

coal  on  the  fire,  and  smiled  himself  out.    Shortly 

after  one  of  the  habitues  of  the  Embassy,  a 

Roman  American,  came  in  and  told  us  a  meeting 

of  the  American  Relief  Committee  was  going 

on  at  the  Palazzo  del  Drago;   if  we  could  wait, 

93 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND  IN  SUN 

they  were  all  sure  to  come  round  to  the  office 
when  it  was  over. 

"  They  have  two  or  three  meetings  a  day," 
the  Roman  American  said;  "  they  were  up 
half  last  night.  What  with  sending  and  receiv- 
ing cables  from  America,  holding  consultations 
with  the  King,  Giolitti  (the  Prime  Minister) 
and  Nathan  the  Sindaco,  those  men  don't  have 
time  to  eat  or  to  sleep." 

At  last  Mr.  Griscom  came  in,  passing  directly 
to  his  private  office;  a  little  later  Mr.  Parrish  and 
Mr.  Hooper  followed  him.  Through  the  open 
door  I  caught  a  glimpse  of  the  Ambassador  at 
his  desk,  talking  with  Mr.  Nelson  Gay  and  Mr. 
George  Page,  both  American  residents  of  Rome. 
These  five  gentlemen  were  the  Relief  Committee, 
there  was  only  one  stranger  to  us  in  the  group; 
the  naval  attache  of  the  Embassy,  Lieutenant- 
Commander  Reginald  Rowan  Belknap.  As  we 
waited  in  the  reception  room,  most  of  the 
American  men  in  Rome  passed  through;  first 
one,  then  another  of  the  committee  or  of  the 
secretaries  came  in  to  speak  to  some  visitor. 
We  could  not  but  hear  scraps  of  their  conversa- 
tion as  they  passed  to  and  fro. 

**  Griscom    couldn't    have    chosen    his    com- 

94 


AMERICA  TO  THE  RESCUE 

mittee  better:  Parrish  and  Hooper  to  help  him 
raise  the  money  in  America;  Page  and  Gay 
to  help  him  spend  it ;  and  Belknap  —  one  sees 
with  half  an  eye  he's  a  man  for  an  emergency,'* 
said  a  visitor. 

"  Of  course  we  shall  get  the  money;  I  am 
ready  to  guarantee  it!  "  exclaimed  the  treasurer 
of  the  committee. 

'*  Parrish  is  head  of  the  Southampton  Red 
Cross.  He  has  cabled  the  President,"  mur- 
mured another. 

"  The  steamer  will  start  from  Genoa.  Smith, 
our  Consul,  is  buying  up  the  town  to  fit  her 
out,"  said  a  young  secretary. 

"  The  Ambassadress  has  collected  half  a 
shipload  of  supplies!  " 

"  All  the  sterilized  milk  you  can  lay  your 
hands  on  —  "  This  to  one  who  offered  con- 
tributions. 

**  Put  my  money  in  tobacco;  those  poor 
devils  need  a  smoke  if  ever  man  did,"  said  the 
Roman  American. 

Waiting  in  that  office  was  like  watching  the 
movement  of  a  vast  engine,  feeling  the  throb- 
bing   of    our    country's    mighty    heart  —  our 

pulses  leapt  to  keep  time  with  it. 

95 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND  IN   SUN 

"  Weston  Flint  is  just  the  man  for  you.  He 
is  a  graduate  of  our  school  and  speaks  Italian 
well,"  said  Mr.  Carter,  director  of  the  American 
Classical  School. 

'*  If  you  can  get  Giordano  of  the  Tribuna, 
he's  your  man.  He  speaks  English  as  well  as 
I  do,"  said  a  journalist. 

**  I  know  three  trained  nurses  who  are  ready 
to  go  if  they're  wanted." 

At  last  our  turn  came;  Captain  Belknap 
found  time  to  speak  to  J.  The  intense  concen- 
trated force  that  we  had  felt  in  the  atmosphere 
of  that  room  seemed  personified  in  the  naval 
attache.  To  be  in  his  company  was  like  touch- 
ing an  electric  battery.  Only  a  few  words  were 
exchanged;  the  upshot  of  it  all  was  that  J.  offered 
his  services  and  was  accepted.  He  said  he  was 
ready  to  go  in  any  capacity,  and  was  then  and 
there  appointed  interpreter  and  general  handy- 
andy-man  to  the  expedition.  My  services  were 
refused;  no  women  except  professional  trained 
nurses  were  wanted. 

"  Do  you  know  a  man  with  some  knowledge 

of  accounts  you  could  get  to  go  with  us.^^     He 

must  speak  Italian."    Captain  Belknap  said  it 

lightly  enough,  as  if  he  were  merely  dropping 

96 


AMERICA  TO  THE   RESCUE 

a  hint.  What  was  it  that  made  that  hint  more 
imperative  than  a  command? 

*'  I  will  try  to  find  one,"  said  J.  As  we  walked 
out  of  the  Embassy  he  exclaimed,  "  Thompson 
is  our  man !  This  is  a  sort  of  press-gang  business ; 
we  had  better  drop  down  on  him  at  once." 

We  hurried  to  the  studio  in  the  Via  Degli 
Artisti,  where  we  found  Wilfred  Thompson  at 
work  on  his  decoration  for  the  English  church. 
After  the  tense  atmosphere  of  the  embassy 
the  studio  seemed  strangely  peaceful.  On  the 
easel  was  a  picture,  still  wet,  of  the  pine  trees 
in  the  Villa  Borghese,  with  the  red  sunset  light 
striking  between  their  smooth  stems.  A  little 
cat  rubbed  its  arched  back  against  my  dress 
purring  her  friendly  song  of  welcome,  "  three 
thrums,  three  thrums."  We  felt  like  conspira- 
tors come  to  break  up  our  friend's  quiet  life. 
He  listened  gravely  to  the  proposition  that  he 
should  volunteer  for  the  relief  ship,  and  took 
time  to  consider  it.  In  one  sense  it  was  not  diffi- 
cult for  him  to  go,  he  said;  he  only  had  to  find  a 
home  for  the  kitten,  and,  as  a  lesser  considera- 
tion, to  make  a  will.  The  words  struck  chill; 
there  was  danger  then!    In  the  end  Thompson 

decided  to  go;  he  spoke  without  enthusiasm; 

97 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND   IN   SUN 

it  was  evident  that  having  been  called  upon  he 
felt  it  his  duty  to  go.  His  mood  was  in  strong 
contrast  to  the  enthusiasm  of  those  men  at  the 
Embassy;  they  were  on  the  circuit  of  the  Great 
Dynamo,  they  throbbed  with  the  thrill  of 
it,  glowed  with  the  Niagara-like  power  of  it. 
Tuesday  morning  Thompson  offered  his  services 
to  Captain  Belknap.  When  we  met  him  that 
afternoon,  we  knew  that  he  too  had  come  within 
the  magnetic  circle,  had  felt  the  thrill  of  the 
Great  Dynamo,  for  from  that  time  on  he  toiled 
like  the  others  with  heart  and  soul,  with  nerves 
and  body  doing  double,  triple  work. 

"  Thompson's   got   the   pace,"    said   J.,    "  a 
jolly  good  one  too." 

A  man  may  not  choose  how  he  shall  serve 
the  great  Republic,  but  whatever  service  is 
asked  of  him,  that  let  him  render  with  heart 
and  soul.  Though  Thompson  would  not  have 
chosen  the  post  of  supercargo  —  any  more  than 
Flint  would  have  asked  to  be  cashier  or  J.  in- 
terpreter —  once  it  was  assigned  him,  he  threw 
himself  into  the  work  with  all  his  might.  The 
studio  saw  him  no  more;  the  little  cat  —  all 
the  family  he  had  —  missed  him.       He  spent 

his  days  and  most  of  his  nights  trying  to  bring 

98 


AMERICA  TO  THE  RESCUE 

order  out  of  that  chaos  of  supplies,  checking 
bills,  making  lists  and  invoices  of  clothes,  food, 
medicine,  tools,  all  the  wonderful  things  bought 
for  the  relief  ship.     The  cargo  was  got  together 
somehow,  anyhow;    the  thing  was  done  —  that 
was  the  main  point.     From  morning  till  night 
those    tireless    men    and    women    bought    and 
bought,  sewed  and  sewed,  packed  and  tied  up 
in  bundles  the  stores,  clothing,  shoes,  medicines, 
for  the  sufferers.      It  was  Thompson's  duty  to 
try  and  bring  some  sort  of  order  out  of  that 
chaos.     When  men  and  women  are  dying  of  cold 
and  hunger,  when  human  life  is  at  stake  and  the 
race  is  with  death,  haste  is  the  only  thing  to 
strive  for;  waste  counts  not.    So  Griscom  and 
his  Americans  resolutely  cut  the  Gordian  knots 
of  red  tape  that  strangle  Italy,  whenever  they 
came  across  one,  and  never  counted  the  cost. 
Now  that  we  look  back,  what  they  did  seems 
incredible.     Remember,  it  was  Sunday  morn- 
ing,  January   3rd,    that   the   Ambassador   ap- 
pointed his  committee  to  help  him  put  through 
the  thing  he  had  planned  to  do;    the  work  of 
the  next  three  days  would  not  be  believed  if 
it  could  be  told.     From  the  beginning  Griscom 

did  the  impossible  —  the  only  thing  worth  doing 

99 


SICILY   IN   SHADOW  AND   IN   SUN 

in  this  world.  He  was  told  that  the  idea  of 
fitting  out  a  relief  ship  was  chimerical;  every 
available  steamer  was  already  engaged  by  the 
Italian  Government.  Even  if  a  ship  could  be 
found,  where  would  the  supplies  come  from? 
The  Roman  shops  were  well  nigh  sold  out.  If 
ship  and  cargo  could  be  scared  up,  how  to  get 
the  cargo  to  the  ship.^  It  took  a  month  to  get 
a  box  from  Rome  to  Naples!  This  last  argu- 
ment seemed  final! 

Every  objection  was  met,  every  obstacle  over- 
come. In  three  days  the  ship  was  found,  the 
cargo  bought,  the  men  and  women  of  the  relief 
'  crew  enlisted,  ready,  eager  to  start.  Monday 
Captain  Belknap  engaged  the  Austrian  Lloyd 
steamer  "  Oceania;  "  she  could  be  ready  to 
sail  in  nine  days.  Monday  night  the  North 
German  Lloyd's  agent  telephoned,  offering  the 
"  Bayern  "to  be  ready  to  sail  from  Genoa 
Wednesday,  January  6th.  This  was  a  saving 
of  six  days;  the  offer  of  the  "  Bayern  "  was 
accepted,  the  Austrians  handsomely  refusing 
to  claim  the  forfeit  of  one  thousand  dollars  due 
them  for  breach  of  contract.  Who  says  corpora- 
tions have  no  heart?    The  committee  knew  they 

could  count  on  thes^Germans  to  do  what  they 

100 


AMERICA  TO  THE   RESCUE 

undertook  to  do.  The  discipline,  the  steady 
hammer-hammer  of  the  army  drill  master  has 
got  into  the  very  blood  and  bones  of  that  nation. 

So  the  ship  was  found! 

As  for  the  cargo:  when  the  committee  was 
not  in  session,  William  Hooper,  the  famous  Har- 
vard athlete,  Samuel  Parrish,  the  connoisseur 
of  Italian  Cinque  Cento,  Nelson  Gay,  the  his- 
torian, George  Page,  the  banker,  were  working 
under  the  lash,  buying  coats,  blankets,  shawls, 
pins,  needles,  biscuits,  cheese,  sausages,  picks, 
shovels  —  all  they  could  lay  hands  on  of  these 
grave-digger's  tools,  for  still  on  the  eighth,  the 
tenth  day  after  the  earthquake,  even  later, 
men  and  women  were  taken  out  alive  from  the 
ruins.  In  Genoa,  James  Smith,  American  Consul, 
was  gathering  together  a  vast  store  of  hams, 
beans,  potatoes,  salt  pork,  rope,  canvas,  candles, 
all  the  ship  wares  to  be  found  in  the  great  sea- 
port. It  was  one  thing  to  put  these  goods  bought 
in  Genoa  on  board  the  *'  Bayern,"  but  how  to 
get  the  masses  of  clothing,  tools,  food,  medi- 
cines and  bedding,  purchased  in  Rome  —  a 
tithe  of  which  cumbered  the  great  hall  of  the 
Palazzo'del  Drago  —  to  the  ship.'' 

"  If  the  railroad  to  the  south  cannot  take 
101 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND  IN  SUN 

the  goods  to  Naples,  the  railroad  to  the  north 
shall  take  them  to  Civitavecchia;  the  old  papal 
seaport  is  as  good  a  place  to  sail  from  as  from 
Naples!  "  Griscom  argued;  so  that  knot  was 
cut. 

Stein,  the  shipper,  was  called  in,  another 
of  those  busy  silent  Germans  who  year  by  year 
are  getting  more  and  more  of  Italy's  commerce 
into  their  strong  capable  hands.  Stein  under- 
took to  have  the  cargo  at  Civitavecchia  on 
the  '*  Bayern's  "  arrival  there,  and  he  was  as 
good  as  his  word.  The  Government  gave  free 
ti'ansportation  to  the  goods. 

Reports  are  dull  reading,  statistics  worse  — 
there  is  nothing  quite  so  misleading  as  statis- 
tics —  there  are  a  few  exceptions  to  this  rule; 
the  reports  of  the  American  Relief  Committee 
are  among  them.  The  minutes  kept  by  Samuel 
Parrish  lie  before  me;  they  are  as  interesting 
as  a  novel.  As  interesting.'*  Twenty  thousand 
times  more  interesting.  The  story  is  told 
gravely  and  concisely,  but  the  romance  shines 
through  the  conventional  terms,  transfigures 
the  formal.statements;  it  has  the  life  pulse  of 
an  old  Greek  drama;  it  moves  with  the  inevi- 
table sequence  of  history.     The  titles  of  Chair- 

102 


AMERICA  TO  THE  RESCUE 

man,   Secretary,   Treasurer,   are  disguises   like 

the    masks    worn    by    the    Athenian    players. 

They  serve  to  hide  the  personality  of  the  actor, 

leaving  him  freer  to  play  the  role  for  which  he 

is  cast.     The   characters  speak  their  lines,  the 

play  moves  steadily  from  the  first  lurid  scene  of 

the  earthquake  to  the  final  chorus  of  Hope. 

After    Nature    had    done    her    worst    and    the 

greatest   disaster  of  history  had   stunned   the 

world,  the  network  of  nerves  with  which  America 

has  enmeshed  the  globe,   the  telegraph  wires 

and    submarine    cables,    flashed    the    dreadful 

intelligence  from  nerve  center  to  nerve  center. 

Whether  for  good  or  for  ill,  we  gave  the  world 

its  nervous  system;  ours  the  responsibility  for  the 

quickened  pulse  of  life !     The  cables  were  kept 

busy;  message  after  message  flashed  from  the 

Embassy  at  Rome  to  Washington,  to  New  York, 

Philadelphia,  Boston,  San  Francisco.     That  cry 

of  the  Calabrian  exiles:     "  Do  not  forget  to 

help  Scylla,"  touched  the  public  imagination. 

I  hear  the  thrill  of  it  in  all  the  messages  that 

follow,  the  committee's  appeal  to  the  American 

Red  Cross,  to  the  Governors  of  the  States,  to 

the  people  of  America.     The  Ambassador  and 

Mr.  Parrish  telegraph  the  President,  Mr.  Par- 

103 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND  IN  SUN 

ish  cables  Governor  Hughes  and  Mayor  Mc- 
Clellan,  Mr,  Hooper  calls  on  Governor  Guild 
of  Massachusetts  for  funds  for  a  relief  ship. 
Time  is  so  precious  they  do  not  wait  for  answers; 
strong  in  their  faith  in  America's  generosity, 
these  men  assume  a  personal  responsibility  for 
the  great  sums  of  money  needed,  so  no  time 
is  lost  in  waiting  for  answers  to  their  appeals. 
This  is  the  secret  of  how  the  incredible  thing 
was  done;  it  was  not  only  by  the  labor  of  these 
resolute  men  but  by  the  faith^that  was  in  them 
that  the  country  would  "  back  "  them,  would 
make  good  all  they  promised. 

"  Theirs,"  said  the  Roman  American,  "  is 
an  infallibility  absolute  as  the  Pope's;  they 
know  that  God  and  the  American  people  are 
behind  them!  " 

We  were  in  Athol's  library  Wednesday  eve- 
ning when  J.'s  sailing  orders  came.  The  large 
pleasant  room  was  just  light  and  warm  enough. 
There  was  a  wood  fire,  there  were  flowers  — 
blood-red  Roman  anemones  —  there  were  books 
and  pictures,  there  was  Athol  himself  (the  man 
of  whose  mellow  culture  and  sensitive  taste, 
the  room  was  an  expression)  seated  in  a  beau- 
tiful Savonarola  chair  at  an  ancient,  perfectly 

104 


AMERICA  TO  THE  RESCUE 

appointed  table,  writing  despatches  with  pen 
and  ink  on  large  foolscap  paper. 

"  They  have  telephoned  from  the  Embassy," 
said  Agnese,  who  brought  the  news,  "  that  the 
Signore  should  be  at  the  station  at  nine  o'clock 
tomorrow  morning.  The  Signora  is  invited  to 
go  as  far  as  Civitavecchia  with  the  Ambassa- 
dress and  the  other  ladies  to  witness  his  depar- 
ture —  ah !  sainted  apostles !  for  that  land  of 
death!  "  Agnese  disapproved  of  J.'s  going  down 
to  Messina.  "  Give  those  unfortunates  any- 
thing in  reason,"  she  argued,  "  clothes,  food, 
even  a  little  money !  But  to  go  oneself,  or  even 
to  allow  one  who  is  dear  to  go  down  to  that  — 
that  yozzo  d'infezione,  ah!  no,  there  is  no 
reason  in  that!  It  is  the  act  of  the  mad.  Mama 
mia!     Are  there  not  enough  dead  already.^  " 

"  You  will    be  too  late  for  Messina,"   said 

Athol,  looking  up  from  his  despatches.     '*  They 

don't  like  having  foreigners  about;   the  English 

ships    from  Malta  were  there  a  week  ago  but 

they  found  they  were  not  wanted !    You  will  find 

more  than  enough  to  do  at  the  smaller  villages; 

they    have    been    neglected.      Have    you    any 

flannel  shirts?  " 

*'  Hundreds,"  said  J. 

105 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND  IN  SUN 

"  For  the  profughi,  yes,  but  for  yourself? 
You'll  need  them  and  flannel  collars;  I  can 
lend  you  some  and  a  hold-all.  Have  you  seen 
the  last  subscriptions  to  the  Lord  Mayor's 
Fund?  "  He  handed  J.  a  London  paper  with 
the  list  of  subscribers  to  the  English  Earthquake 
Fund.  There  was  a  generous  rivalry  of  *'  who 
shall  give  and  do  most?  "  between  the  Americans 
and  English  that  was  heart-warming. 

"  You  deserve  a  large  share  of  the  credit  for 
this,"  J.  said;  "  I  hope  it  will  be  set  down  to 
your  account." 

Athol's  telegrams  and  articles  were  read  by 
English-speaking  people  all  over  the  world; 
they  had  great  influence  in  raising  the  Mansion 
House  Fund,  and  other  contributions. 

The  next  morning  was  gray  and  mild,  a  de- 
pressing sirocco  day.  Napoleone  who  drove 
us  to  the  station  was  gloomy  as  Agnese  about 
J.'s  going  to  Messina.  His  clerical  sympathies 
made  him  scoff  at  the  value  of  all  lay  relief 
work. 

"  Those  afl3ictions  that  are  sent  by  the  Padre 
Eterno  can  best  be  assuaged  by  the  Church," 
he  grumbled,  as  he  put  Athol's  fine  English 

hold-all   on   the   box   beside   him.      Even   the 

106 


AMERICA  TO  THE   RESCUE 

strawberry  roan  was  out  of  spirits  and  took 
ten  minutes  longer  than  usual  between  the 
palace  and  the  station.  *'  What  has  his  Excel- 
lency to  do  with  such  matters?  "  Napoleone 
flung  the  words  over  his  shoulder.  "I  tell 
you  frankly,  Signora  mia,  his  life  is  worth  more 
than  all  the  Sicilians  put  together.  It  is  a  pity 
the  island  of  Sicily  did  not  sink  beneath  the 
sea  and  remain  there  twenty  minutes,  long 
enough  to  drown  all  the  inhabitants.  It  would 
have  been  a  good  thing  for  Italy,  magari,  and 
for  the  rest  of  the  world !  " 

Wilfred  Thompson,  who  was  at  the  station 
when  we  arrived,  introduced  Weston  Flint, 
the  cashier.  Mr.  Flint  wore  a  leather  money 
bag  over  his  shoulder. 

"  Ask  for  the  special,"  said  Flint,  as  he  wrote 
our  names  down  on  a  list;  "  the  Government 
has  put  a  train  at  the  Ambassador's  disposal; 
they  treat  us  handsomely,  you  see." 

*'  That  young  man  came  to  Rome  to  study 
archeology,"  said  the  Roman  American,  who 
was  going  with  us.  "  He  will  learn  more  about 
ruins  and  excavation  in  the  next  few  days 
than  he  could  have  learned  at  school  in  a  life- 
time." 

107 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND  IN   SUN 

A  cab  drove  up  with  three  neat,  plainly 
dressed,  young  girls. 

"The  American  nurses,  God  bless  them!" 
said  the  Roman  American.  "  There  come  the 
English  nurses;  and  there's  Robert  Hale,  the 
painter  —  why  have  they  gone  in  so  heavily 
for  artistic  talent?  "  Then  answering  his  own 
question:  "Because  artists  are  the  hardest 
working  people  in  the  world,  and  the  most 
generous;  they  always  do  more  than  their 
share  of  good  work;  rich  people  give  their 
money,  they  give  themselves!  " 

Just  then  the  Ambassador  and  Mrs.  Griscom 
came  up  in  their  motor  and  we  all  got  on  board 
the  train.  The  journey  to  Civitavecchia  was 
all  too  short;  we  hardly  found  time  to  look  from 
the  window  and  were  only  half  conscious  of 
passing  the  ancient  Temple  of  Minerva  Medica, 
or  Ponte  Galera,  the  picturesque,  fever-stricken, 
abandoned  town  hung  in  its  green  shroud  of 
ivy.  The  artists  missed  nothing  of  the  beauty 
of  the  trip  (their  search  for  beauty  is  as  uncon- 
scious as  breathing);  the  rest  of  us  had  to  be 
forcibly  wrenched  from  the  discussion  of  medi- 
cated gauze  and  flannel  bandages  when  a  turn 

of  the  road  brought  a  wonderful   view  before 

108 


AMERICA   TO   THE   RESCUE 

us,  —  the  campagna  swimming  in  an  amethyst 
haze,  the  blue  clear-cut  hues  of  the  Alban  hills, 
and  far  off,  a  fainter  blue  stain  against  the  sky, 
Monte  Circeo,  home  of  Circe,  daughter  of  the 
sun.  These  things  the  sons  of  Mary  saw,  while 
the  sons  of  Martha  talked  of  ways  and  means. 

What  had  been  accomplished  in  the  few  days 
since  that  first  meeting  of  the  committee  Sun- 
day afternoon  seemed  a  miracle.  The  men 
who  had  worked  the  miracle  were  with  us,  quiet, 
alert,  full  of  attentions  for  the  comfort  of  the 
ladies  who  were  going  to  see  the  '*  Bayern  " 
start  on  her  cruise  of  mercy.  The  leader  of 
the  enterprise,  Lloyd  Griscom,  and  his  right- 
hand  man.  Captain  Belknap,  who  bore  the  brunt 
of  all  the  great  work  that  was  to  follow,  talked 
together  in  undertones,  discussing  the  final 
arrangements.  Later  Mr.  Gay,  Mr.  Parrish 
and  Mr.  Page  joined  them.  The  rest  of  us  kept 
apart,  as  it  seemed  they  were  holding  an  informal 
committee  meeting,  to  decide  some  last  weighty 
matter,  and  exchanged  our  news. 

'*  Mr.  Griscom  saw  the  King,"  said  the  Roman 

American,    "  and   offered   him   the   relief  ship. 

The  King  accepted  it  and  told  the  Ambassador 

that  nothing  could  have  been  devised  better 

109 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND  IN  SUN 

than  such  a  gift.  The  money  for  the  expedition 
was  given  by  the  American  Red  Cross  to  Mr. 
Griscom  to  spend  at  his  discretion." 

That  was  wise,  for  what  was  needed  now  even 
more  than  money  was  the  good  sense  to  spend 
it  well,  ability,  organizing  power  —  the  thing 
that  is  so  much  harder  to  get  or  to  give  than 
money  —  brains! 

At  Civitavecchia  we  were  received  by  the 
Sindaco,  the  Sub-Prefect,  and  the  Captain  of 
the  Port;  they  all  wore  black  gloves  and  crape 
bands  on  the  arm.  The  general  exaltation  and 
excitement  that  ran  like  fire  through  Rome 
was  lacking  in  the  small  provincial  seaport; 
there  was  a  sense  of  hopeless  mourning  here, 
more  distressing  than  the  tearing  passion  of 
Rome. 

Two  of  our  ladies  disappeared  as  soon  as  we 
reached  Civitavecchia.  The  rest  of  us,  es- 
corted by  the  officials,  were  rowed  out  in  small 
boats  to  the  *'  Bayern,"  a  fine  steamer  of  5000 
tons,  lying  in  the  outer  harbor  surrounded  by 
a  fleet  of  lighters. 

*'  Still  taking  on  stores,  you  see,"  said  Mr. 

Stein,  who  had  come  in  person  to  s6e  that  the 

goods    from    Rome    were    delivered    on    time. 

110 


AMERICA  TO  THE   RESCUE 

*'  By  four  o'clock  everything  will  be  on  board; 
they  will  be  able  to  start  without  delay." 

*'  This  is  Captain  Mizloff,"  said  Belknap 
(how  could  he  find  time  for  everything?),  pre- 
senting the  big  florid  typical  North-German- 
Lloyd  commander. 

"  They  tell  me  you  shall  not  with  us  go.^  " 
said  the  captain.  "  It  is  a  pity;  we  shall  a 
moon  and  a  fine  weather  have,  and  a  good  run 
to  Messina  make.     Will  you  my  quarters  visit  .f*  " 

His  calm  blue  eyes,  his  smiling  undismayed 

presence   were   comforting.     Here   was   a   man 

who  had  not  been  whirled  out  of  his  natural 

orbit  like  the  rest  of  us.     After  we  had  gone  over 

the  ''  Bayern  "  with  Captain  Mitzloff,  visited 

his  cabin  and  admired  the  portraits  of  his  wife 

and  flaxen-haired  children,  the  expedition  began 

to  look  more  rational,  a  little  less  out  of  the 

ordinary.     His    practical    sober    kindness    was 

somehow   reassuring.     We   went   down   to   see 

J.'s  cabin,  an  outer  room  with  a  good  window. 

The  familiar  smell  of  stale  sea-water  brought 

a  pang  of  homesickness  —  of  course  we  were 

going  to  sail  for  America,  there  never  had  been 

any  earthquake,  it  was  all  a  bad  nightmare; 

it  was  curious  how  the  illusion  persisted.     It 

111 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND   IN   SUN 

grew  even  stronger  when  a  pink  and  white 
steward  announced  luncheon,  and  we  made 
our  way  to  the  dining  saloon,  decorated  and 
furnished  in  the  usual  North  German  Lloyd 
fashion.  The  chief  steward  allotted  us  our 
seats  —  oh,  it  was  just  like  the  beginning  of 
twenty  other  trans-atlantic  crossings!  I  recog- 
nized the  way  the  table  was  set,  the  napkins 
folded,  the  bread  cut;  we  were  going  home  — 
together. 

"  I  shall  order  green  goose  and  mirabellen  —  " 
I  announced. 

"  You  are  to  sit  beside  the  Sindaco  of  Civita- 
vecchia because  you  can  talk  Italian  to  him," 
said  one  of  the  committee  at  that  moment; 
the  illusion  vanished.  I  was  placed  with  Mrs. 
Griscom  and  the  other  ladies  of  the  Auxiliary 
Relief  Committee  at  the  captain's  table.  J., 
already  separated  from  me,  sat  with  the  nurses, 
and  other  assistants,  Flint,  Hale  and  Thompson, 
at  the  doctor's  table,  below  the  salt  as  it  were. 
He  was  under  orders;    discipline  had  begun. 

Though  we  were  all  anxious  and  sad  enough, 
there  was  a  brave  effort  at  gayety.  The  Am- 
bassador proposed  the  health  of  the  King  and 

Queen  of  Italy  in  a  neat  little  speech;   and  the 

112 


AMERICA  TO  THE   RESCUE 

Sindaco,  a  stout  man  with  red  eyes,  responded 
with  a  toast  to  the  President.  He  pronounced 
a  few  flowery  sentences,  and  then  speaking  of 
the  six  or  seven  people  from  Civitavecchia  who 
had  escaped  the  earthquake  and  come  back  to 
their  native  town  beggared  and  bereft,  he  fal- 
tered, burst  into  tears  and  sat  down.  After 
luncheon  I  found  my  way  to  the  ladies'  saloon, 
all  white  and  gold  and  blue  brocade,  with  that 
faint  dreadful  under-smell  of  stale  sea-water 
in  its  draperies,  cushions  and  carpet.  Here 
I  found  the  nurses  unrolling  two  bundles  of 
stuff. 

"  You  missed  us,"  said  one  of  the  ladies, 
*'  and  wondered  where  we  went  from  the 
station;  this  is  what  we  were  in  search  of." 
She  unrolled  a  piece  of  ivory-white  flannel  and 
another  of  scarlet  cloth. 

"  Who  can  cut  me  out  a  neat  cross  .'^  This 
is  all  lopsided,"  said  the  chief  cutter-out.  She 
held  up  a  badly  cut  cross  of  red  cloth. 

"  I  know  who  can  make  a  better  one  than 
that,"  I  cried  and  went  in  search  of  J. 

*'  We  shall  want  a  good  many,  for  every  one 

of  them  must  wear  the  badge  on  his  left  arm," 

said  the  chief  cutter-out. 

113 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND   IN   SUN 

"  We  fly  the  Red  Cross  then?  It  has  been 
arranged?  " 

The  Ambassador  had  cut  another  strand  of 
the  red  tape  that  strangles  Italy.  Permission 
to  fly  the  Red  Cross  flag  had  been  asked  and 
refused  because  none  of  the  party  belonged  to 
the  Italian  Society,  though  several  were  mem- 
bers of  the  American  Association.  When  in 
order  to  overcome  this  objection  the  leaders 
asked  leave  to  join  the  Italian  Red  Cross,  the 
answer  was  that  it  would  take  two  weeks  for 
them  to  be  elected.  Mr.  Griscom  passed  over 
the  refusal  and  carried  the  request^to  a  higher 
court,  where  it  was  granted. 

My  last  impression  of  the  '*  Bayern  "  was 
that  scene  in  the  saloon,  where  Thompson  and 
J.  stood  patiently  cutting  out  the  red  cloth 
crosses  and  the  trained  nurses  sat  stitching  them 
neatly  on  the  ivory  cloth  bands.  At  two  o'clock 
Mrs.  Griscom  and  the  ladies  of  her  auxiliary 
committee  left  the  ship  and  took  the  train 
for  Rome  with  Mr.  Parrish  and  Mr.  Page. 

"  Of  course   I   wanted   to  go   to   Messina," 

said  Mr.  Parrish,  *'  but  somebody  had  to  stay 

in  Rome  to  attend  to  this  end  of  the  business!  " 

At  four  o'clock  the  "  Bayern  "  sailed,  Cap- 

114 


STROMBOL;  from  the  "BAYERN."     Page  121. 


THE  AMERICAN  AMBASSADOR  AND  RED  CROSS  NURSES 
ON  "THE  BAYERN."     Page  114. 


MESSINA.     ITALIAN  MILITARY  ENCAMPMENT.     Page  54. 


MESSINA.     ITALIAN  OFFICERS  AND  MEN.     Page  54. 


AMERICA  TO  THE  RESCUE 

tain  Belknap  having  commandeered  three  small 
craft  against  the  need  of  landing  on  an  open 
beach,  for  which  the  ship's  boats  were  unsuit- 
able. As  she  sailed  out  of  the  harbor  of  Civita- 
vecchia, past  the  old  lighthouse  with  the  two 
defending  towers,  the  "  Bayern  "  flew  the 
American  ensign  at  the  fore,  the  German  mer- 
chant flag  aft,  and  between  foremast  and 
funnel  on  the  triatic  stay  the  flag  of  the  whole 
Christian  world,  a  cross  vermilion  on  a  ground 
white. 


115 


IV 

THE   CRUISE   OF  THE    '  BAYERN  " 

"  It  looks  as  if  God  had  put  His  foot  upon  it !  " 
said  Hugh,  the  Yeoman.  J.,  watching  the 
pallid  sunset  from  the  deck  of  the  "  Bayern," 
as  she  swung  at  anchor  in  the  sickle-shaped 
harbor  of  Messina,  turned  from  the  sombre 
Sicilian  mountains,  rising  tier  above  tier  to 
the  wet  gray  sky,  and  looked  at  what  men 
called  the  "  indispensable  city "  before  God 
had  set  His  foot  upon  it.  The  pile  of  smoking 
ruins,  in  some  places  tall  as  the  wrecked  build- 
ings had  originally  been,  in  others  crushed 
flat  to  the  earth,  looked  indeed  as  if  some 
mighty  being  had  stamped  his  way  with  giant 
strides  over  the  city;  you  could  trace  his  foot- 
steps in  the  shattered  remnants  of  the  great 
Sicilian  seaport. 

"  Do  you  believe  the  earthquake  was  a  judg- 
ment? "  Hugh  went  on. 

Gasperone,  the  Messinese,  shook  the  rough 

mane  of  hair  out  of  his  eyes  and  parried  the 

116 


THE  CRUISE  OF  THE  '  BAYERN " 

question  with  a  "  Chi  lo  sa  ?  "  Then  he  added: 
"  It  was  foretold;  I  myself  heard  the  prophecy, 
though  at  the  time  I  laughed,  with  others 
who  laugh  no  more.  One  of  the  hottest  days 
of  last  summer  a  tall  Nazarene,  a  hermit  from 
the  hills  dressed  in  sackcloth,  went  up  and 
down  the  city,  followed  by  a  boy  —  half  naked 
like  himself  —  ringing  a  great  bell.  There  on 
the  Marina  they  stopped  at  a  cross  street  and 
the  Nazarene  cried  out  like  one  possessed : 

"'Be  warned!  Take  heed  and  repent,  ye 
of  Messina!  This  year  shall  not  end  before 
your  city  is  utterly  destroyed!  '" 

"  It  was  a  wicked  city,"  said  Hugh;    *'  the 

Almighty  smote  this  place.     What  else  could 

ha'  done  it?    Our  chart  called  for  fifty  fathom 

of    water,    we    plumbed    and    plumbed  —  two 

hundred  and  fiifty  didn't  fetch  it,  the  bottom 

had  just  dropped  out.     There's  Riggio  'crost 

the  straits,  hit  the  same  way  —  a  double  stroke 

you   may   say.     WTien    you   see   a   city   smote 

like  that,  you  may  know  it  was  a  wicked  city; 

'twas  the  same  with   'Frisco  —  she  got  what 

she  deserved.     Dowti  to  Callao  centuries  ago 

'twas  the  same.     The  people  were  fighting  and 

killing  each  other,  so  the  Almighty  he  shook 

117 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND   IN   SUN 

down  the  town  and  out  of  the  water  a  great 
high  mountain  riz  right  up  in  the  air  carrying 
a  big  ship  as  was  lying  in  the  harbor  with  it; 
I  know  folks  as  has  seen  it!  They  put  an 
immense  cross  on  the  spot;  the  kings  or  presi- 
dents or  whatever  there  is  down  there,  swore 
that  until  that  cross  was  pulled  down  they 
would  never  fight  no  more.  Whenever  they're 
like  to  quarrel,  some  one  points  to  that  cross, 
and  then  they  manage  to  settle  the  row  without 
bloodshed!  " 

"Awe  W,"  said  Gasperone. 

"  They  say  a  vile  piece  of  poetry  was  printed 
in  an  infidel  paper,  asking  our  Saviour  to  prove 
He  could  work  miracles  by  sending  a  good 
earthquake  —  is  that  true?  " 

Gasperone  spat  over  the  side  and  nodded; 
then  he  too  prophesied. 

"  There  is  more  to  come."     Gasperone  shook 

a  warning  finger:    "Listen!    la  Sicilia  will  go 

down,  down,  and  finally  be  lost  under  the  sea. 

Already   it   has   begun;     the   mountains   grow 

lower  and  lower;   when  I  was  a  boy  they  were 

much  higher  than  now.     The  Marina  has  sunk 

in  some  places  a  metre.     You  know  the  ancient 

stemma,    the    coat-of-arms   of   Sicily,   has   but 

118 


THE   CRUISE   OF  THE   "  BAYERN " 

three  legs?  We  have  lost  one  leg,  there  are 
but  two  left.  When  the  next  leg  goes,  it  will 
be  finished;  the  island  will  topple  and  sink 
beneath  the  sea.  I  have  said  it."  He  made 
a  gesture  as  if  to  wipe  the  ancient  island  of 
Trinacria  from  the  face  of  the  globe. 

It  was  the  third  day  of  the  cruise  of  the 
"  Bayern;  "  all  the  relief  party  were  on  shore, 
except  Wilfred  Thompson  and  J.,  who  had  been 
detained  on  board  by  their  work.  J.,  who  had 
come  up  from  the  hold  to  take  a  breath,  listened 
half  consciously  to  the  talk  of  Gasperone  and 
Hugh,  the  Yeoman.  In  his  confused  memories 
of  that  time  this  scrap  of  their  conversation 
survives. 

What  has  happened  since  the  "  Bayern  " 
sailed  from  Civitavecchia.^  First  one,  then 
another  of  that  strangely  assorted  ship's  com- 
pany shall  tell  the  story. 

"  Immediately  on  getting  under  way,"  writes 

Captain  Belknap,  "  the  work  of  arranging  our 

supplies  began,  so  that  we  might  know  what, 

how  much,   and   where  to  lay  our  hands   on 

everything.     Supplies  purchased  at  Genoa  were 

in  the  after  hold,  those  from  Rome  forward; 

except  for  this  separation  everything  was  mixed 

119 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND  IN  SUN 

together.  The  Rome  purchases  had  been  made 
by  several  persons  acting  independently;  marks 
on  many  packages  had  been  torn  off  or  obliter- 
ated in  the  hurry  of  transportation,  and  the  diffi- 
culty was  increased  by  the  absence  of  many 
invoices.  Fortunately  good  weather  favored 
us.  The  work  continued  in  the  fore  hold 
until  ten  p.  m.  on  Thursday." 

"  Worked  very  hard  till  dinner  getting  cargo 
in  order  and  opening  up  some  stuff.  After 
dinner  worked  on  bills  with  Flint  and  Hale," 
writes  Wilfred  Thompson  in  his  diary  for 
January  7th. 

A  letter  from  J.,  of  the  same  date,  gives  a 
fuller  account  of  the  first  day : 

"  We  got  straight  to  work  the  moment  you 

were  all  clear  of  the  ship.     I  didn't  even  get 

a  chance  to  take  a   snap-shot   as  we  left  the 

harbor  of  Civitavecchia;   indeed,  I  didn't  even 

see  the  town,  as  I  was  helping  Thompson  with 

his  invoices.     After  that  we  all  went  down  in 

the  hold  and  were  hunting  or  moving  things 

and  getting  them  up  on  deck.     Such  confusion 

as  there  was  in  the  hold,  it  is  impossible  to 

imagine !    Everything  simply  dumped  in  a  heap. 

I   found    a   lot   of    things   they   wanted.    We 

120 


THE  CRUISE  OF  THE  "  BAYERN  " 

worked  down  there  till  dinner  just  like  porters, 
and  I  am  tired  as  a  dog." 

Friday,  January  8th,  was  a  busy  day  for  all 
on  board.  In  the  morning  the  weather  was 
fine,  at  noon  they  passed  Stromboli,  the  burn- 
ing mountain  that  rises  in  a  sharp  cone  from 
the  Tyrrhene  Sea.  Mr.  Thompson  notes  in  his 
diary  the  beauty  of  the  Calabrian  coast.  They 
passed  near  enough  the  shore  to  see  the  people 
of  the  ruined  villages  living  in  tents  and  shanties. 

J.'s  letter  for  that  day  says: 

"  After  breakfast  I  went  to  find  sterilized 
milk  in  the  forward  hold.  Then  I  got  to  work 
with  Hooper,  who  is  a  brick,  as  my  partner, 
and  between  us  we  cleaned  out  that  hold. 
Mr.  Griscom  came  down  and  saw  what  we  were 
doing,  and  tried  to  photograph  us.  He  ap- 
proved our  efforts,  which  resulted  in  our  finding 
many  things  at  the  bottom  that  were  supposed 
to  be  missing.  Such  a  jumble  there  never  was 
seen!  Everything  had  been  hauled  off  the 
lighters  and  pitched  into  the  holds,  without 
any  attempt  at  order;  one  and  every  kind  of 
thing  on  top  of  the  other  and  always  the  thing 
most  needed  at  the  bottom.    When  I  tell  you 

that  a  bunch  of  picks  and  spades  had  been 

121 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND   IN  SUN 

dropped  upon  boxes  of  macaroni,  you  may  get 
a  slight  idea  of  what  would  naturally  happen. 
I  spent  the  day  as  Hooper's  side  companion  — 
a  bully  worker,  no  shirk  in  him  —  and  we  got 
through  about  six  this  evening.  It  was  a 
splendid  day  and  Thompson,  who  worked  above 
the  water  line,  had  a  glimpse  of  Stromboli  as 
we  passed  it  about  noon.  At  4.45  we  dropped 
anchor  at  Messina  —  what  there  is  left  of  it, 
only  a  heap  of  ruins,  though  at  first  sight  the 
houses  didn't  seem  to  be  so  utterly  destroyed. 
However,  under  the  searchlights  from  the  ships 
one  could  see  how  complete  the  ruin  is  —  noth- 
ing but  heaps  of  rubbish  with  walls  sticking 
up  above  them.  As  soon  as  we  came  to  anchor, 
the  Captain  of  the  Port  came  aboard.  I  stuck 
to  the  Commander  like  Sherlock  Holmes  and 
was  his  interpreter.  He  (the  Italian  port  official) 
wanted  to  know  the  kind  of  things  we  had  on 
board.  Three  American  officers  came  aboard 
with  Major  Landis  and  Delme  Radcliffe,  Mr. 
Cutting  and  Chanler,  who  seemed  quite  in  his 
element.  .  .  .  Everyone  says  what  splendid 
work  he  has  been  doing.  A  little  later  the  Am- 
bassador and  the  Commander  (Belknap),  Mr. 

Lupton,    the    American    Vice    Consul,    Major 

122 


THE   CRUISE   OF  THE   "  BAYERN " 

Landis,  and  yours  truly,  went  to  see  General 
Mazza  on  board  the  *  Duca  di  Genova,'  a 
magnificent  Italian  liner.  It  was  all  very  in- 
teresting. I  went  as  interpreter.  Delme  Rad- 
cliffe  is  quartered  on  board  the  staff  ship,  so 
he  went  with  us  too.  He  applied  to  the  captain 
of  one  of  the  American  ships  in  the  harbor  for 
a  boat  to  take  the  remains  of  the  English  Con- 
sul's wife  to  the  cemetery  tomorrow  morning, 
but  could  not  get  one  promised  till  three  p.  m., 
as  the  U.  S.  flagship  only  arrives  in  the  morning. 
Mr.  Griscom  returns  on  her  and  brings  you  this 
letter.  Delme  Radcliffe  saw  a  man  taken  out 
alive  at  six  o'clock  this  afternoon.  A  propos 
of  boots,  they  seem  to  be  the  things  most  needed. 
I  fear  I  have  lost  my  pen  in  the  hold.  I  am 
sorry  Mr.  Griscom  is  leaving,  and  Dodge  too. 
D.  has  been  working  like  a  slave.  Splendid! 
I  forgot  to  say  that  the  visit  to  the  General 
in  command  w^as  to  place  the  ship  with  every- 
thing aboard  at  his  disposal." 

Captain  Belknap's  record  for  the  same  day, 
giving  a  fuller  account  of  the  visit  to  the  "  Duca 
di  Genova,"  ends  with  these  words: 

"  General  Mazza  expressed  his  warm  ap- 
preciation   of    the    offer    and    the    spirit    that 

123 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND  IN   SUN 

prompted  it,  and  recommended  that  the  ship 
proceed  to  Catania  and  Palermo,  possibly  also 
to  Syracuse,  as  these  places  had  received  many 
sick,  wounded  and  refugees,  but  so  far  no  help 
in  proportion  to  their  needs.  At  Messina  the 
situation  was  well  in  hand  and  supplies  were 
already  available,  sufficient  for  all  require- 
ments." 

The  next  morning,  Saturday,  the  U.  S.  S. 
"  Connecticut,"  flagship  of  the  Atlantic  Fleet, 
Admiral  Sperry  commanding,  arrived  at  Mes- 
sina with  her  tender,  the  "  Yankton,"  and  the 
supply  ship,  "  Culgoa."  A  conference  was  held, 
and  the  plan  of  action,  the  policy  of  the  Ameri- 
can relief  work  in  Sicily  was  doubtless  then  and 
there  perfected;  of  this  the  men  in  the  hold  of 
course  knew  little  or  nothing.  They  only  knew 
that  Mr.  Griscom,  the  leader  of  the  expedition, 
was  to  leave  them  and  were  sorry  that  he  should 
go. 

Admiral    Sperry    landed    two    hundred    and 

fifty  men  to  excavate  the  American  Consulate 

and  recover  the  bodies  of  the  Consul  and  his 

wife;   the  "  Yankton  "  remained  at  Messina  as 

a  base  of  supplies;    and  the  "  Connecticut," 

with    the    Ambassador    on    board,    sailed    for 

124 


THE  CRUISE  OF  THE   "  BAYERN  " 

Naples  Saturday  afternoon  and  left  the  "  Bay- 
ern  "  to  cooperate  with  the  supply  ship,  "  Cul- 
goa,"  in  relief  work  along  the  coast. 

Several  boatloads  of  supplies  for  the  American 
Consulate  were  landed,  and  a  large  amount  of 
food  and  clothes  was  given  with  a  sum  of  money 
to  the  Archbishop  of  Messina.  About  the  time 
the  "  Connecticut  "  sailed,  a  message  was  re- 
ceived by  the  Americans  that  at  Reggio,  the 
city  on  the  Calabrian  shore  that  faces  Messina, 
their  help  would  be  gratefully  received. 

While  all  these  official  matters  were  going  on, 
Wilfred  Thompson  was  busy  with  his  invoices 
and  accounts,  and  J.  with  his  stores  in  the 
hold.  It  was  not  until  the  afternoon  of  Satur- 
day that  they  went  on  shore.  Gasperone  and 
Hugh,  the  Yeoman,  went  with  them.  In  all 
J.'s  notes  and  letters  there  is  frequent  mention 
of  the  strange  Sicilian  servant,  Gasperone,  who 
seems  to  have  been  half  crazed  by  the  earth- 
quake, and  of  Hugh,  the  Yeoman,  one  of  the  en- 
listed men  who  had  sailed  on  the  great  cruise 
round  the  world. 

They  landed  in  a  pouring  rain  and  made  their 

way  to  the  ruins  of  the  American  Consulate. 

From    a    shattered    window   flapped    a   yellow 

125 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND  IN  SUN 

brocade  curtain  above  a  huge  mass  of  stone  and 
plaster,  with  gaunt  beams  sticking  up  against 
the  leaden  sky.  A  detachment  of  American 
sailors  were  working  here  in  shifts  day  and  night. 
A  little  farther  on  the  party  stopped,  rooted  to 
the  earth  by  the  sound  of  a  weird  lament,  like  the 
keening  of  the  mourners  at  an  Irish  wake.  They 
soon  saw  where  the  dreadful  wailing  came  from. 
Seated  on  a  pile  of  debris  was  an  old  woman,  all 
huddled  together,  her  head  in  her  hands,  her 
knees  drawn  up  to  her  chin,  swaying  slowly 
backwards  and  forwards,  the  movement  of  her 
body  keeping  time  to  her  moans ;  she  might  have 
been  one  of  the  ancient  cave-dwellers,  the  atti- 
tude, the  lament  seemed  a  strange  primitive 
expression  of  despair,  old  as  the  race. 

"  That  is  Sora  Anna;  they  have  found  her 
son's  head  and  part  of  the  body,"  said  Gas- 
perone  indifferently.  "  That  girl  is  Elena,  his 
fidanzata;  they  were  to  be  married  this  month. 
They  are  waiting  for  the  coffin." 

The  girl,  Elena,  stood  beside  the  old  woman 

like  a  thing  of  stone.     She  was   a   beautiful 

creature;    her  face  was  almost  as  white  as  the 

lint  with  which  her  head  was  bandaged.    Silent 

and  dry-eyed,  she  looked  like  a  statue  of  revolt. 

126 


THE  CRUISE  OF  THE  "  BAYERN  " 

At  her  feet  lay  the  ghastly  fragments  of  her 
lover's  body.  Two  soldiers  passed  with  picks  on 
their  shoulders;  one  of  them  asked  the  girl  if  he 
could  help  her.  She  paid  no  attention,  but  stood 
looking  across  the  sea,  stony  and  silent,  while 
the  mother  wailed  the  death  song  for  her  son. 

"  Come,"  said  Gasperone,  "  it  will  be  dark 
in  an  hour;  the  sun  no  sooner  gets  up  than  it 
goes  to  bed.  Madonna!  With  all  the  rest,  it 
is  too  much  that  the  days  should  be  so  short. 
After  dark,  the  wild  dogs  who  come  from  the 
mountains  to  devour  the  dead  are  dangerous; 
in  the  day,  they  are  more  timid,  the  soldiers 
have  shot  so  many." 

Gasperone  led  the  way  towards  the  cathedral 
square.  On  their  way  they  passed  the  ruins  of 
the  Banca  d 'Italia,  guarded  by  a  strong  force 
of  soldiers. 

*'  There  is  a  great  treasure  here,"  said  Gas- 
perone, '*  that  must  be  guarded  at  any  cost, 
you  understand.  These  soldiers  might  —  but  it 
is  always  so;  gold  is  worth  more  than  flesh  and 
blood!" 

In  one  of  the  main  streets  Gasperone  stopped 
beside  a  tragic  group  —  a  priest,  an  old  woman 

and  a  dead  man. 

127 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND   IN  SUN 

"Ah,  behold!'*  he  cried,  "they  have  just 
found  Padre  Antonio's  twin  brother.  He  and 
his  mother  were  the  only  ones  saved  of  a  family 
of  fourteen." 

The  priest,  haggard  and  wild  looking,  with 
his  arm  in  a  sling,  began  to  read  aloud  a  prayer. 
His  mother  stood  beside  him,  swaying  backwards 
and  forwards.  As  the  prayer  ended,  the  mother 
joining  in  the  benediction.  In  nomine  Patris,  et 
Filii,  et  Spiritus  Sancti;  a  newspaper  reporter 
fixed  his  camera  on  a  tripod  and  photographed 
the  pathetic  group.  The  rain,  that  had  stopped 
for  a  moment,  now  came  down  again  in  torrents 
and  drenched  them  all  to  the  skin. 

"  It  was  raining  like  mad  most  of  the  time," 
J.  writes,  "  I  can  well  understand  how  your  poor 
old  woman,  Rosina,  kept  harping  on  the  rain. 
Anything  more  dismal  it  is  hard  to  imagine.  I 
have  only  been  made  uncomfortable  by  it; 
but  there  are  hundreds  of  poor  people  camping 
out  wherever  there  is  a  clear  space  big  enough 
to  run  up  a  primitive  shelter  with  boards,  if 
they  have  them,  or  sails  rigged  on  poles.  I  saw 
one  ambitious  family  roofing  roughly  with  tiles 
they   had    collected    from    the   streets.      They 

seemed  to  be  the  first  to  make  the  attempt, 

128 


THE  CRUISE  OF  THE  *' BAYERN " 

though  the  streets  are  literally  strewn  with 
tiles.  In  these  poor  shelters,  and  in  the  miser- 
able little  tents  (some  of  them  about  half  big 
enough  for  a  man  to  crawl  into  and  lie  down, 
and  which  do  not  reach  the  ground  by  about  a 
foot  and  a  half)  the  water  had  flooded  every- 
thing. The  suffering  from  this  cruel  rain  that 
these  poor  souls  endure  must  be  cruel  beyond 
words. 
Mr.  Thompson  writes  under  the  same  date: 
"  Worked  early  getting  off  the  goods  the 
Vice  Consul  had  asked  for.  The  Ambassador 
and  the  rest  of  the  party,  except  Elliott  and 
myself,  went  on  shore;  weather  very  wet  and 
stormy.  Lunched  early  and  went  on  shore  with 
Elliott,  passing  the  '  Connecticut  '  with  the 
Ambassador  on  board.  Went  to  temporary 
Consulate  and  met  Deputy  Vice-Consul,  Mr. 
Cutting,  and  the  acting  English  Consul.  Then 
Elliott  and  I  went  out  to  see  the  town,  wearing 
our  red  crosses.  The  sights  were  terrible;  we 
realize  now  what  an  earthquake  means.  We 
walked  along  the  Marina,  the  former  chief 
water-front  street.  It  has  in  places  sunk 
beneath  the   water   level,  and   is   full  of  huge 

cracks.    Here  and  there  we  passed  a  house  but 

129 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND  IN  SUN 

little   damaged,  but  nearly  all  have   the   roofs 

fallen  in;  and,  curious  to  say,  at  short  intervals 

are  houses  that  have  been  utterly  and  entirely 

smashed  for  no  particular  reason  that  one  could 

see.      The    American    and    British    Consulates 

are  a  case  in  point.    Italian  soldiers  were  diggijng 

and  the  party  from  the  '  Culgoa  '  working  all 

day  under  the  driving  rain,  looking  in  vain  for 

the   bodies   of   the   American   Consul   and   his 

wife.      Constantly    saw    soldiers    with    spades 

passing  along.     The  city  is  under  martial  law 

and  we  saw  many  soldiers  on  guard.     A  few 

people  living  in  wooden  shanties  or  among  the 

ruins  with  the  rain  soaking  in  upon  them.    Made 

our  way  inland  to  the  cathedral  which  looks,  as 

far  as  one  can  judge,  as  though  the  facade  must 

have  been  fine.    The  ruins  of  the  cathedral  are 

well  guarded  by  soldiers,  on  account  of  the  great 

treasure  buried  there.     The  streets  around  the 

duomo   are   so   ruined   that   we   climbed   over 

debris  level  with  the  second  and  third  floors. 

The  presence  of  the  dead  was  all  too  obvious 

at  every  few  yards.     It  will  take  two  or  three 

years  to  clear  what  is  left  of  the  city,  and  I 

should  think  it  was  a  hopeless  task  and  that 

Messina   must   be   abandoned.     Some   of   the 

130 


"i:^ 


MESSINA.     A  HOUSE  THAT  ESCAPED  DESTRUCTION.     Page  129. 


B^— -'-sJWV^l 


REGGIO.     SOLDIERS  ON  THEIR  WAY  TO  A  R£iSl,uE.     Fage  130. 


MESSINA.     THE  MILITARY  COLLEGE.    Fage  130. 


MESSINA.     PALACE  OF  THE  PREFECT.     Page  130. 


THE  CRUISE  OF  THE  "  BAYERN " 

remains,  broken  beds  and  chairs,  tawdry  candle- 
sticks, torn  dresses  were  very  pathetic.  One  of 
the  sentries  stood  on  guard  under  a  black  silk 
lace-trimmed  parasol.  So  fearfully  wet  we 
returned  to  the  Consulate  and  found  Mr. 
Griscom.  About  four  p.  m.  we  went  down  on 
the  beach  to  wait  for  the  boat.  Grand  and 
terrible  storm  over  Calabrian  coasts.  Flashes 
of  lightning  lit  up  the  shipping  in  the  harbor 
and  the  dreary  shore  with  its  broken  barrels 
and  all  kinds  of  rubbish.  Fell  in  with  an  officer 
from  the  *  Culgoa.'  Frightful  rain  and  flashes 
of  blinding  lightning.  When  it  was  dark  but 
for  these,  the  launch  from  the  '  Bayern  '  at  last 
arrived  with  a  boat  in  tow.  The  boat  was  cut 
loose,  but  the  fool  men  did  not  know  how  to 
manage  it  and  tried  to  beach  it  on  the  shelving 
shore  over  a  huge  iron  grating.  Every  wave 
filled  the  boat  and  the  men  let  her  get  broadside 
on  and  almost  swamped  her.  To  my  relief 
Mr.  Cutting  was  on  board  and  jumped  into  the 
water  over  his  knees.  Cutting  ordered  the  men 
to  carry  the  bales  and  cases  of  stores  ashore. 
The  goods  were  full  of  water  and  some  were  in 
consequence  almost  too  heavy  to  carry.    Quite 

dark  except  for  the  lightning.     I  sent  a  man 

131 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND   IN   SUN 

back   to   the   Consulate   for   a   lantern,    which 

helped  somewhat.    Finally  Cutting  and  the  men 

went  off  and  left  me  to  guard  the  goods.    When 

all  but  the  heaviest  were  taken  away  I  went 

to  the  Consulate,  taking  my  officer.     Found 

various  men  and  we  had  hot  coffee,  which  was 

welcome  and  I  think  saved  me.     My  coat  so 

heavy  with  water  I  could  hardly  move  under 

the    weight.      Great    difficulty    in    getting    the 

German  sailors  (of  the '  Bayern' )  to  carry  up  the 

heavy  cases  to  the  Consulate.     If  Cutting  had 

not  spoken  German  we  never  could  have  done 

so.     Finally  got  it  done  and  started  to  walk 

about  a  mile  to  where  the  launch  and  boat  were 

waiting  for  us.    Weird  effects!    Lights  of  ships 

in  the  harbor  over  inky  black   water  and  sky. 

At  last  got  launch  and  got  to  our  ship.    Tired 

out  but  felt  better  after  dinner.     Dreams  full 

of  earthquake  and  huge  waves.    The  desolation 

of  those  hours  in  the  drenching  rain,  waiting 

for  the  boat,  will  remain  always  in  my  mind!  '* 

"January      10th:        Left     Messina     about 

7 :30  A.  M.  in  rain.     Came  over  to  Reggio  and 

lay  there  all  day.     Commander  Belknap  heard 

from   the   Italian   cruiser,  *  Napoli,'  that  they 

wanted  stores  there,  so  we  had  a  hard  and  busy 

132 


THE  CRUISE  OF  THE  "  BAYERN " 

day  getting  them  out.  Officers  and  boats  came 
about  three  p.  m.  to  fetch  them.  So  rushed  had 
hardly  time  to  look  at  coast  and  Reggio,  but 
it  did  not  seem  so  badly  damaged  as  one  would 
expect  from  the  newspaper  accounts.  The 
'  Napoli  '  is  to  distribute  our  stores  to  the 
small  towns  along  the  coast.  Tired  out  and 
bruised  by  fall.  Thick  wet  evening.  At  dark 
got  all  boats  on  board  and  got  up  anchor  and 
went  back  to  Messina,  and  lay  there  for  the 
night  about  a  mile  off  shore  (there  is  no  anchor- 
age at  Reggio).  Woman  said  to  have  been 
taken  out  alive  from  debris  at  Messina  but  to 
have  died   later." 

J.'s  letter  for  the  same  date  says: 

"  I  only  got  a  squint  at  Reggio  for  a  moment, 

just  as  we  were  leaving,  when  the  rain  let  up  a 

little  and  we  had  sent  our  last  boatload  ashore. 

I   spent   all    the   morning  getting   up   the   stuff 

from  the  hold  and  keeping  track  of  it,  and  most 

of  the   afternoon.     What  did   not  go   into   the 

boats   went   into   the  forward   hold.     I  hunted 

among  hundreds  of  bales   and   things  for  two 

bales  of  tent  canvas,  which  I  found  and  got  on 

deck.      Chanler  had  been  down    there  with  a 

gang  in  the  morning  and  arranged  things  in  a 

133 


SICILY   IN   SHADOW   AND   IN   SUN 

way  that  made  it  possible.  The  last  time  I  was 
down  there  it  was  in  a  terrible  mess  with 
eveiything  together.  You  see  the  after  holds 
are  where  I  have  been  since  the  first  day,  and  in 
my  part  I  know  where  to  find  eveiything  they 
ask  for,  though  some  things  —  the  white  beans 
for  instance  —  I  can't  get  at,  as  there  are  two 
layers  of  sacks  on  top  of  'em,  which  will  have 
to  be  removed  first.  It  is  raining  like  mad  most 
of  the  time;  I  never  saw  such  rain  as  we  had 
last  night.  I  believe  I  have  said  so  already; 
anything  more  dismal  it  is  hard  to  imagine." 

In  Captain  Belknap's  report  of  this  day  he 
says: 

"  We  were  unable  to  see  General  Mazzitelli 

(in   conimand   at   Reggio),   as   he   was   ill,   but 

Captain  Cagni,  commanding  the  *  Napoli,'  senior 

Italian  naval  ofiicer  present,  received  us  in  his 

stead.     He  showed  much  satisfaction  in  having 

our  supplies  to  draw  upon,  especially  for  women 

and  children's  clothing,  oil  stoves,  tent  canvas, 

cooking    and    table    utensils,    tools    and    nails. 

About  four-fifths  of  the  *  Napoli 's  '  crew  had 

been  sent  away  on  relieving  expeditions  among 

the  outlying  small  villages,  and  our  supplies  were 

in  good  time  for  use  in  a  second  expedition 

134 


THE  CRUISE  OF  THE  "  BAYERN " 

which  was  being  prepared.  We  were  cordially 
thanked  for  our  supplies  (about  25  tons),  which 
we  were  able  to  transfer  that  afternoon.  The 
*  Bayern  '  then  returned  to  anchor  overnight  at 
Messina,  there  being  no  good  berth  at  Eeggio. 
The  '  Culgoa  '  remained  off  Reggio  to  deliver 
provisions  next  day." 

Remember  Captain  Cagni!  "We  shall  hear 
of  him  again;  a  live  man,  with  red  blood  in  his 
veins ! 

Extract  from  Mr.  Thompson's  diary. 

"  Monday,  January  11th:  Left  Messina 
about  six  a.  m.  Splendid  rainbow  with  moon 
above  it.  At  7:30  as  we  passed  close  to  the 
coast,  the  lower  slopes  of  Etna,  covered  with 
snow,  visible.  Unfortunately  a  cloud  on  top. 
Anchored  off  Catania  at  10:30.  Ugly  town 
from  the  sea  view,  but  Etna  proud  above  it." 

Extract  from  J.'s  letter  of  same  date: 

"  We  have  been  getting  rid  of  a  lot  of  stuff 
and  I  believe  are  likely  to  discharge  the  greater 
part  of  our  cargo  here,  perhaps  all,  and  take 
a  fresh  cargo  of  planks  and  building  wood  to 
some  particular  place  where  they  are  very  much 
in   need    of   it   for   shelter.      This    afternoon   I 

helped  Captain  Belknap  to  receive  the  Prefetto 

135 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND  IN  SUN 

and  Sindaco  of  Catania,  together  with  a  com- 
mittee of  ladies  and  gentlemen,  and  to  show 
them  over  the  ship.  The  operating  room,  store 
room,  and  rooms  where  the  nurses  have  the 
clothes,  boots,  hats,  etc.,  which  they  put  up 
in  bundles  as  they  are  wanted.  They  inspected 
also  the  staterooms,  turned  into  hospital  wards. 
As  soon  as  they  were  all  gone  I  got  the  hatches 
off  (it  was  six  o'clock),  went  down  into  the  hold 
and  sent  up  sixteen  bales  of  blankets  and  two 
cases  of  suits  of  clothes.  As  luck  would  have 
it,  I  had  them  all  moved  in  the  morning,  right 
under  the  crane  so  that  I  was  able  to  get  them 
slung  up  and  over  the  side  into  the  boats  on 
record  time,  but  for  all  that  it  took  an  hour  and 
three  quarters  and  I  didn't  come  out  of  the 
hold  till  eight  o'clock.  I  helped  Thompson  for 
about  an  hour  after  dinner,  and  that  let  me  out 
for  today.  We  started  in  with  breakfast  at 
7:30;  hatch  off  at  8:30,  work  till  lunch  at  12 
o'clock;  then  getting  ready  for  the  reception 
—  the  receiving  committee  being  Captain  Belk- 
nap, Hooper  (my  side  companion)  and  Gay  — 
myself  and  Flint  (a  firstrate  Harvard  boy)  as 
assistants  to  handle  the  crowd.  I  have  done 
so    many    different    things    today    that    I    have 

136 


THE  CRUISE  OF  THE  "  BAYERN  " 

forgotten  about  half  of  them.    Now  I  must  go  to 
bed  as  tomorrow  is  going  to  be  a  tremendous  day." 

Catania  is  the  second  largest  city  in  Sicily. 
Twenty-five  thousand  of  the  survivors  had 
been  sent  to  Catania  from  Messina  and  the 
smaller  towns  destroyed  by  the  earthquake; 
the  problem  of  supplying  food,  clothing  and 
shelter  for  these  poor  people  was  no  easy  one 
for  the  Catanians  to  solve.  Catania  had  not 
suffered  from  the  earthquake  and  therefore  was 
not  under  military  law;  the  civil  authorities 
were  most  grateful  and  appreciative  of  all  the 
help  the  Americans  offered  in  whatever  shape. 
Admiral  Gagliardi,  who  was  in  the  harbor  on 
board  the  battleship  "  Garibaldi,"  seems  to 
have  been  as  cordial  in  his  reception  of  the 
"  Bayern  "  as  the  Sindaco.  He  immediately 
sent  an  oflScer  to  welcome  the  expedition  and  to 
offer  any  assistance  Captain  Belknap  might 
require.  The  cordial  relations  that  immediately 
sprang  up  between  the  Italian  admiral  and  the 
commander  of  the  American  relief  expedition 
can  be  felt  even  in  Captain  Belknap's  neces- 
sarily  guarded    record. 

"  We  were  immediately  boarded  by  an  officer 

137 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND  IN  SUN 

from  the  battleship  '  Garibaldi,'  "  he  says, 
"  with  the  compliments  of  Rear  Admiral  Gagli- 
ardi.  The  Admiral  offered  us  any  assistance 
we  might  need;  and  when  I  made  an  official 
visit  to  him  that  afternoon,  he  inquired  with 
much  interest  about  all  that  could  be  learned 
of  the  situation  at  Messina  and  Reggio,  and 
about  the  expedition.  He  very  kindly  made  it 
well  understood  that  we  had  only  to  ask  to 
obtain  any  assistance  at  his  disposal  —  an 
offer  that  I  was  glad  to  avail  of,  for  men  to 
assist  with  handling  supplies,  transmission  of 
telegrams  by  wireless,  and  service  of  boats.  The 
Admiral  returned  the  visit  next  day,  inspected 
the  ship  with  evident  interest,  and  expressed 
his  approval  of  her  organization  and  arrange- 
ments, particularly  of  the  medical  department." 
Catania  was  glad  to  see  the  Americans,  and 
the  Americans  were  glad  to  see  Catania.  Every- 
thing combined  to  make  the  visit  a  success.  It 
is  noted  in  the  diary  that  the  eleventh  of 
January  was  "  a  splendid  warm  day  and  a 
starlight  night.*'  The  dreadful  rain  had  held  up 
for  a  little;  they  were  received  with  open  arms. 
The  Sindaco  letter  of  welcome,  dated  January 
11th,  rings  true:  — 

138 


THE   CRUISE   OF   THE   '*  BAYERN " 

**  Municipality  of  Catania, 

"  January  11th,  1909. 
*'  With  pleasure  I  express  to  you.  Gentlemen 
of  the  Committee  and  all  of  the  Expedition  of 
the  American  Red  Cross,  embarked  on  board 
the  S.  S.  *  Bayern,'  the  heartiest  thanks  of  the 
population  of  Catania,  and  of  the  refugees  and 
wounded  who  have  found  here  a  shelter,  for 
your  generous  offer  of  medicines,  clothes,  food, 
etc. 

"  The  relief  brought  by  you  will  be  effective 
to  lessen  the  sufferings  of  so  many  wretched 
people  who  have  been  deprived  in  a  few  moments 
of  their  relatives,  of  their  beloved  native  town 
and  of  eveiy  possession. 

"  With  esteemed  consideration, 

"  The  Mayor,  S.  Gonsoli. 
*'  The  Signor  Reginald  Rowan  Belknap." 

Catania,  the  rival  seaport  of  Messina,  is  a 
thriving  city  but  the  drain  put  upon  the  citizens, 
many  of  whom  had  suffered  great  loss  of  prop- 
erty through  the  earthquake,  and  the  consequent 
paralysis  to  business  all  over  Sicily,  was  more 
than   they   could   meet.     The   relief   work  was 

in  the  hands  of  a  Municipal  Committee  and  a 

139 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND  IN   SUN 

Ladies'  Committee;  through  these  well  or- 
ganized committees  the  medicines,  clothes,  food 
and  tools  that  our  committee  in  Rome,  and 
our  Consul  in  Genoa,  had  worked  so  hard  to 
collect,  were  distributed  and  put  into  im- 
mediate use.  Mr.  Hooper  notes  in  his  diary 
that  "  Mr.  Gay  and  Mr.  Cutting  were  sent  on 
shore  to  investigate  hospitals  and  the  general 
situation." 

Tuesday,  the  12th  of  January,  was  a  busy 
day;  the  men  in  the  holds  worked  from  early 
morning  till  late  night,  getting  out  stores  as 
they  were  wanted.  Here  at  last  was  a  demand 
for  their  wares.  In  desperate,  stricken  Messina 
General  Mazza's  policy  was  to  discourage  the 
few  survivors  from  remaining.  The  military 
authorities  w  ished  to  get  rid  of  them  as  quickly 
as  possible,  and  they  were  shipped  to  all  parts 
of  Italy  by  steamer  or  train.  The  entry  in 
Mr.  Thompson's  diary  for  January  12th  is 
briefer  than  usual,  but  the  quality  and  color 
of  it  brings  the  whole  scene  vividly  before  us. 

"  January  12th:  In  Catania  harbor  all  day 
unloading  goods.  A  long  hard  day.  Crowd 
of   soldiers,    sailors,    representatives   of   various 

hospitals,  priests,  sisters  of  charity  and  others, 

140 


THE   CRUISE   OF  THE   "  BAYERN  " 

all  standing  about,  asking  for  '  goods '  and 
getting  in  the  way.  Had  a  party  of  thirty  men 
from  Italian  warship  to  help  load  the  lighters. 
The  hardest  day  of  the  expedition,  nearly 
knocked  out  by  night.  A  beautiful  day,  espe- 
cially towards  sunset.  Admiral  Gagliardi  from 
the  '  Garibaldi  '  came  aboard  with  officers  and 
the  committee  from  Taormina  arrived;  Miss 
Claxton,  one  of  the  nurses,  left  us.  German 
Consul  and  friends  to  dinner.  Two  quite  dirty 
men  kissed  Gay  on  each  cheek  as  a  slight  token 
of  their  gratitude." 

The  committee  from  Taormina  included 
JNIiss  Mabel  Hill,  Fraulein  Gasser,  Mr.  Harr\- 
Bowdoin,  and  Mr.  Charles  King  Wood.  They 
brought  with  them  a  letter  from  the  Sindaco  of 
Giardini,  a  fishing  village  on  the  coast,  at  the 
foot  of  the  hill  on  which  Taormina  stands. 

Captain  Belknap's  report  of  the  Taormina 
Committee's  visit  says: 

"  Upon  their  representations  of  conditions  in 
their  district,  work  already  done  and  still  in 
hand,  and  cases  of  need  still  unrelieved,  about 
twenty  tons  of  clothing,  sheets,  blankets,  pro- 
visions,   medical    dressings    and    miscellaneous 

articles  were  given  into  their  care  for  shipment 

141 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND  IN  SUN 

by  rail,  and  10,000  lire  to  be  spent  at  the  dis- 
cretion of  the  committee  in  their  work  in  these 
two  places.  We  also  sent  with  this  shipment 
all  clean  linen  remaining  on  board.  The  serv- 
ices of  a  nurse  were  also  wanted  at  Taormina 
and  Giardini,  and  Miss  Claxton  was  sent  with 
this  party  on  their  return  there.  A  letter  since 
then  has  been  received  from  Miss  Claxton, 
saying  that  she  is  engaged  as  a  district  or  visiting 
nurse,  and  that  all  the  supplies  sent  have  proved 
very  useful.  A  further  sum  of  money  was 
entrusted  to  Messrs.  Bowdoin  and  Wood,  both 
members  of  the  American  Red  Cross,  who  under- 
took to  arrange  for  the  expenditure  for  the  relief 
of  the  small  villages  outside  Giardini  and 
Taormina,  between  there  and  Messina. 

"  In  response  to  an  appeal  from  Acireale,  Mr. 
Gay  made  a  personal  visit  among  the  relief 
workers  there,  after  which  some  clothing  and 
other  supplies  and  5,000  lire  were  delivered  to 
them.  To  the  Little  Sisters  of  the  Poor  1,000 
lire  were  given  for  their  immediate  assistance. 
A  few  bundles  of  clothing  were  sent  by  rail  to 
Messina  in  care  of  Mr.  Chanler  in  response  to  a 
wireless  message  from  the   '  Yankton.'  " 

The  Little  Sisters  of  the  Poor  had  suffered 
142 


THE   CRUISE   OF  THE   *' BAYERN " 

heavily  at  Messina.  Their  convent  and  the 
schools  and  hospital  attached  to  it  had  been 
completely  destroyed;  many  of  the  sisters  had 
been  killed  or  injured.  The  devotion  and 
courage  of  these  faithful  nuns  to  the  old  people 
and  the  children  under  their  care  made  a  deep 
impression  on  all  the  company  on  board  the 
"  Bayern." 

"  While  lying  in  Catania,"  Captain  Belknap 
continues,  "  knowing  that  lumber  was  needed  at 
Reggio,  Mr.  Flint  was  sent  ashore  Wednesday 
morning,  to  buy  such  quantity  as  we  could  get 
on  board  that  day.  Lighterage  facilities  were 
very  scarce,  as  many  steamers  were  in  the 
harbor  discharging;  but  by  the  persistent 
efforts  of  the  German  Vice-Consul,  Mr.  Jacob 
Peratoner,  who  veiy  kindly  devoted  almost  his 
entire  day  in  our  behalf,  we  succeeded  in  getting 
on  board  enough  lumber  to  build  25  houses,  13 
by  13  feet,  complete  with  floors." 

Mr.  Thompson's  diary  for  January  13th 
is  of  unusual  interest.  This  journal  is  human 
and  vital.  It  tells  us  just  what  one  man  saw, 
did,  and  understood;  it  reflects  his  mood;  it 
has  the  heat  of  his  life.  It  gives  us  a  series  of 
snap-shots  of  the  good  ship  "  Bayern  "  with  the 

143 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND   IN  SUN 

rosy  eupeptic  German  Captain  and  the  pale 
slender  American  Commander,  the  crew  — 
rather  a  poor  lot  of  sailors  got  together  at  a 
few  hours'  notice  —  the  stewards  neat  and 
literal,  the  cast-iron  routine,  the  prescribed 
Italian  doctor,  and  all  the  usual  personnel  of  a 
North  German  Lloyd  liner,  commandeered  for 
unusual  service,  with  the  supreme  authority 
vested  for  the  nonce  in  the  American  Com- 
mander, the  quiet  man  with  a  will  of  iron,  who 
never  seems  to  rest,  but  by  his  example  cease- 
lessly stimulates,  \'italizes,  every  member  of 
the  ship's  company. 

Mr.  Thompson's  journal: 

**  January  13th :  In  Catania  harbor  un- 
loading goods.  Emptied  after  holds  before 
lunch.  Afternoon  sent  away  goods  for  Taor- 
mina.  Went  ashore  with  Little  Sisters  of  the 
Poor.  Town  not  interesting.  Came  back  at 
dusk.  Elliott  got  his  nose  cut  on  shore  in  an 
automobile  smash.  A  number  of  refugee  chil- 
dren from  ]\Iessina  came  on  board  to  be  carried 
to  Genoa.  They  had  lost  every  one  belonging 
to  them.  Most  of  them  were  apparently  happy 
except   one   older   one.      Eleven   old   men,    ten 

144 


THE    CRUISE    OF   THE  "BAYERN" 

old  women,  six  Little  Sisters  of  the  Poor,  and 
six  children  came  on  board.  Busy  serving 
out  blankets  till  near  midnight." 

These  twenty-one  old  people  were  between 
eighty  and  one  hundred  years  of  age.  The 
Sisters  had  assumed  the  care  and  future  re- 
sponsibility for  these  poor  souls. 

The  stay  at  Catania  was  the  most  important 
phase  of  the  *'  Bayern's  "  cruise.  Here  the 
most  significant  work  of  the  expedition  was 
accomplished.  The  x\mericans  were  brought 
into  close  and  cordial  relation  with  the  leaders 
of  the  relief  work  in  Catania.  They  visited  the 
refuges  and,  finding  how  well  they  were  ad- 
ministered and  how  grievously  in  need  of 
succor,  they  helped  with  money  and  all  the 
remaining  stores  of  the  "  Bayern." 

At  Catania  the  American  Committee  for  the 

first  time  was  brought  into  direct  touch  with 

the  Americans  w^orking  at  Taormina;   here  was 

another  channel  through  which  the  stream  of 

American    help    could   flow   directly    from    the 

source  of  supply  to  its  destination,  administered 

from  first  to  last  by  Americans.     The  policy 

of   the  committee  was,  as  far  as  possible,    to 

145 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND   IN   SUN 

employ  Americans   to   disburse   the   American 

money  and  the  supplies  it  had  purchased.     It 

was  more  satisfactory  to  the  contributors,  and 

was  of  great  use  to  the  earnest  men  and  women 

who  devoted  themselves  to  the  cause.     Here 

the  committee  came  in  contact,  not  only  with 

Mr.    Bowdoin   and   Mr.    Wood,   those   tireless 

workers  from  Taormina,  but  with  Miss  Kath- 

erine  Bennett  Davis,  one  of  the  most  significant 

figures  among  all  those  who  labored  for  Italy 

in  her  dark  hour.     They  had  expected  to  go 

to  Syracuse,  and  Mr.  Cutting  went  thither  by 

rail  in  order  to  learn  the  existing  conditions  of 

the  relief  work.     He  reported  that  the  work  in 

Syracuse  was  admirably  organized,  under  the 

leadership  of  Miss  Davis.     It  was  found  best, 

however,  not  to  take  the  ship  to  Syracuse,  and 

Mr.   Flint   was   sent  there   with   an   American 

sailor  to  guard  him  and  the  large  sum  of  money 

he  carried  for  Syracuse.     The  greater  part  was 

given    to    Miss    Davis,    the   rest    was    divided 

between    the    Sindaco    and    the   Marchesa    de 

Rudini. 

The  refugees  taken  on  board  at  Catania  added 

to  the  interest  of  life  on  the  "  Bayern,"  though 

the  men  in  the  hold  had  little  time  to  notice 

146 


THE  CRUISE  OF  THE  "  BAYERN  '* 

them;  still  they  added  a  certain  color  and 
picturesqueness  to  the  daily  routine.  J.  has 
memories  of  the  little  children  dancing  on  the 
deck  of  the  "  Bayern,"  romping  in  and  out  of 
the  piles  of  goods  as  they  came  up  from  the 
hold;  and  strongest  of  all,  of  Sor  Michaele,  an 
old  opera  singer,  from  the  almshouse  at  Messina, 
who  sat  all  day  long  at  the  piano  in  the  blue 
brocade  saloon,  playing  and  singing  the  operas 
of  his  youth. 

In  Catania  the  members  of  the  "  Bayern  " 
expedition  saw  thousands  of  the  superstiti. 
Here  they  learned  what  the  effects  of  the  earth- 
quake had  been  upon  the  survivors. 

"  They  had  all  been  singed  by  death,"  writes 

J.      **  They  looked  like  death's  heads  with  the 

grin  and  the  terror  of  the  skull  in  their  faces. 

One  woman  —  I  saw  her  once,  I  heard  of  her 

often  —  went  from  hospital  to  hospital,  to  the 

refuges,    to   all    the   places    where   there   were 

frofughi,  asking  the  same  question  everywhere: 

*  Have  you  here  perchance  a   baby  who  has 

the  habit  of  sucking  the  two  first  fingers  of  his 

left  hand.'^  '     That  was  the  only  clue  she  had 

to  her  lost  child.     I  never  could  hear  whether 

or  not  she  found  him.    In  one  of  the  refuges  I 

147 


SICILY  IN   SHADOW   AND   IN   SUN 

saw  a  woman  who  was  said  to  be  one  of  the 
richest  people  in  Messina.  She  had  lost  every 
member  of  her  family,  she  had  nothing  in  the 
world,  not  a  suit  of  clothes,  not  a  crust,  nothing 
but  herself.  Dr.  Alessandrini,  who  is  studying 
the  nervous  effects  of  the  earthquake,  says  that 
most  of  the  survivors  dream  continually  of  it. 
We  saw  one  woman  who  had  dreamed  of  it 
every  night  and  each  time  awoke  in  a  convulsion 
of  fright.  They  were  in  great  doubt  if  they 
could  save  her  life.  The  children,  even  the 
quite  grown  ones  of  fourteen  or  fifteen,  however, 
forgot  it  all  immediately.  It  was  like  a  bad 
dream  to  them." 

The  automobile  accident  Thompson  referred 
to,  was  telegraphed  to  Rome.  At  ten  o'clock 
that  night  I  read  an  exaggerated  account  of  it 
in  a  newspaper.  "  The  painter  Elliott  injured 
in  an  automobile  accident,"  was  the  heading  in 
the  Roman  Tribuna.  In  his  letter  J.  makes 
light  of  the  accident. 

*'  It  was  nothing  but  a  collision,  the  jar  of 

which  drove  my  nose  through  the  plate-glass 

window   of   the   automobile.     Sicily   is   a   bad 

place  for  automobiles;  the  people  won't  get  out 

of  the  way.     I  heard  one  fellow  say,  *  Am  I  a 

148 


THE  CRUISE  OF  THE  "BAYERN" 

goat  that  I  should  skip  out  of  the  way  of  this 
thing?  '  They  are  half  Oriental;  it  would  be 
undignified  to  run  in  order  to  get  out  of  the 
way  of  a  motor.  Mr.  Robert  Winthrop  has 
brought  down  a  lot  of  tetanus  antitoxin.  Cap- 
tain Belknap  has  divided  it  between  Messina 
and  Catania." 

Mr.  Thompson's  journal: 

"  January  14th,  Reggio  di  Calabria.  Left 
Catania  at  four  a.  m.  Went  on  deck  at  sunrise. 
Fine  effect  on  rocky  coast  and  Etna  in  the  back- 
ground with  top  covered  in  cloud.  Reached 
Reggio  about  eight  a.  m.,  but  could  find  no 
anchorage,  so  circled  about  all  day.  Rough 
weather.  Sent  away  two  life-boats  of  stores, 
but  could  not  discharge  cargo  of  lumber  taken 
on  at  Catania  to  build  shacks  at  Reggio. 
Stormy  sea  and  sky  with  splendid  sunset  effects. 
Etna,  still  with  cloud-covered  top,  against  a 
gold  sky  and  masses  of  purple  cloud.  Flint 
came  on  board  in  the  evening  and  heard  we  were 
at  once  to  sail  for  Palermo,  to  relieve  refugees 
in  care  of  U.  S.  Consul.  Later  toward  midnight 
this  plan  was  changed;   we  are  to  discharge  our 

stores  and  lumber  here,  and  start  for  Palermo 

149 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND  IN   SUN 

Friday  night.  This  day  week  we  left  Rome. 
It  seems  like  a  month  ago.  Reggio  on  nearer 
view  a  sad  sight.  Lay  off  Messina  for 
night. 

"  January  15th :  Left  Messina  about  6 :30  and 
came  over  to  Reggio.  Stormy  early,  later 
cleared  and  day  became  splendid.  Got  well  in 
and  anchored  near  the  shore,  close  to  Italian 
cruiser  '  Napoli.'  The  others  went  ashore  and 
by  ferry  to  Messina,  but  I  had  to  see  all  stores 
brought  up.  Everything  up  by  11:30,  and  we 
put  the  lumber  over  in  bundles  to  be  towed 
ashore  by  boats  and  launch.  Afternoon  un- 
eventful for  me.  Etna  clear  against  the  sky. 
Got  all  lumber  over  the  side  and  had  boat-load 
of  goods  away,  and  left  Reggio  at  seven  p.  m. 
for  Messina.  Accounts  of  condition  of  city  from 
our  people  very  sad.  Persons  said  to  have  been 
taken  alive  from  the  ruins  two  days  ago.  Our 
people  could  hear  the  cries  of  a  buried  dog. 
The  U.  S.  S.  'Illinois'  had  party  of  three 
hundred  men  digging  for  bodies  at  Consulate. 
At  last  succeeded  in  finding  bodies  of  Consul 
and  his  wife.  Five  people  taken  out  alive  today 
at  Messina.     Two  had  food.     Left  Messina  at 

10:55  for  Palermo." 

150 


THE  CRUISE  OF  THE  "BAYERN" 

At  Reggio  the  nurses,  J.,  and  another  member 
of  the  expedition  were  having  their  lunch  on  the 
outskirts  of  the  town  close  by  the  station. 
Near  where  they  sat  the  railroad  carriages, 
swept  off  the  track  and  out  to  sea  by  the  tidal 
wave,  lay  half  submerged  in  the  water,  washing 
idly  to  and  fro,  one  of  the  strangest  sights  of  all 
that  topsy-turvy  world.  The  carriages  were 
doubly  lost,  first  to  the  railroad  company  for 
transporting  passengers,  second  to  the  poor 
profughi  who  used  the  railroad  carriages  as 
houses.  Happy  the  family  who  could  find 
shelter  in  one  of  them  from  rain  and  cold ! 

As    the    party    from    the    "  Bayern  "    were 

finishing  lunch,  an  orderly  from  Captain  Cagni 

brought  an  invitation  to  come  to  headquarters 

and  have  some  hot  coffee.     The  invitation  was 

accepted  with  glee,  and  they  waited  while  the 

coffee  was  made  by  one  of  the  soldiers.    It  was 

hot,  it  was  black,  but,  alas,  it  was  salt.     The 

supply  of  fresh  water  was  so  meagre  that  they 

used  sea  water  to  wash  the    dishes,   and  the 

orderly  who  made  the  coffee  made  the  mistake 

of  taking  salt  water  instead  of  fresh.     There 

were  a  thousand  apologies,  and  the  hospitable 

host  begged  the  guests  to  wait  till  a  fresh  pot  of 

151 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND  IN  SUN 

coffee  was  brewed,  but  time  pressed,  and  they 
were  due  on  board  the  "  Bayern."  One  of  the 
Americans,  adding  brandy  to  his  coffee,  tried  to 
drink  it  with  painful  results.  They  gave  the 
remains  of  their  luncheon  to  some  children; 
every  crumb  of  food  was  precious,  even  at  Reg- 
gio  where  the  suffering  from  hunger  was  never  so 
great  as  at  Messina.  Captain  Cagni  saw  to 
that!  First  he  commandeered  all  the  cattle 
in  the  neighborhood  and  served  them  out  in 
rations  as  beef.  When  the  cattle  gave  out,  the 
donkeys  were  gathered  in  and  served  out  as 
beef,  mind  you,  always  beef.  Finally  the  dogs 
and  cats  were  served  out  in  the  same  way. 
Captain  Cagni  said  it  was  beef,  so  beef  it 
was. 

Captain  Belknap  had  received  several  mes- 
sages from  Mr.  Bishop,  the  American  Consul 
at  Palermo,  asking  that  the  *'  Bayern  "  visit 
that  place,  where  the  crowd  of  profiighi  was  so 
enormous  that  the  Palermitans  could  not  begin 
to  feed  and  clothe  them.  It  was  decided  to 
visit  Palermo  on  the  way  from  the  Straits  of 
Death  back  to  Civitavecchia.  The  fifteenth 
of  January  was  the  last  day  of  their  stay  in  the 

ruined  districts. 

152 


THE  CRUISE  OF  THE  "  BAYERN  " 

Mr.  Thompson's  diary: 

"January  16th:  Gray  morning  early.  Fine 
coast.  Reached  Palermo  9:30  and  anchored 
outside  breakwater.  Some  delay  in  getting 
permission  from  port  authorities  to  land.  Nurses 
and  some  of  our  party  went  ashore  to  buy 
clothing  for  the  refugees.  Then  took  drive 
about  the  city.  Visited  hurriedly  royal  palace 
and  most  interesting  chapel  with  mosaics,  one 
of  the  finest  things  of  the  kind  I  have  ever 
seen.  The  cathedral  inside  quite  uninteresting. 
Splendid  view  over  the  city  and  harbor  and 
mountains  from  terrace  of  palace.  Got  back 
to  lunch  at  two  p.  m.  Visitors  after  lunch. 
Helped  to  make  translation  of  flowery  address 
to  Captain.  Warship  '  Garibaldi '  went  to  sea 
just  before  sunset,  passing  very  close.  We 
left  at  seven  p.  m.  for  Civitavecchia  and  Rome. 
At  dinner  our  Captain  made  a  speech,  saying 
how  well  we  had  all  worked  under  him.  Other 
speeches  followed;  some  of  us  stayed  on  deck 
till  eleven  p.  m.  At  Palermo  gave  30,000  francs 
and  landed  1,200  mattresses  and  1,300  kilos  of 
food  from  ship  stores. 

''January  17th:  At  sea  going  to  Civita- 
vecchia.    Fine  day.     Blue  sea  with  white  caps 

153  ' 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND  IN   SUN 

and  more  motion  than  any  time  since  we  left 
on  this  cruise.  Took  some  snaps  of  old  men  and 
children,  refugees,  but  they  and  all  our  Little 
Sisters  of  the  Poor  were  seasick.  Morning 
packed  and  handed  over  all  my  papers  to  Gay 
and  wrote  letters.  After  lunch  busy  till  we 
landed,  helping  Flint  and  Elliott  pay  bills  on 
ship.  Reached  Civitavecchia  at  about  3:30, 
but  did  not  anchor  for  an  hour.  Finally  got 
off  in  launch,  towing  two  life-boats  (the  boats 
Belknap  had  commandeered  before  they  left 
Civitavecchia;  the  third  was  lost  by  the  clumsy 
sailors  when  they  landed  the  goods  at  Messina 
the  day  of  the  dreadful  storm).  Ambassador 
and  Mrs.  Griscom  and  others  waiting.  After 
some  delay  we  got  off  and  reached  Rome  about 
eight.  Have  come  back  tired  out  but  well. 
Very  glad  I  went  but  glad  to  get  back." 

Truly  misery  makes  strange  bedfellows !  The 
misery  of  Messina  had  brought  together  an 
oddly  assorted  company  of  volunteers  on  board 
the  "  Bayern."  There  was  Mr.  Gay,  the  Sec- 
retary of  the  Committee,  a  Fellow  of  Harvard 
College  settled  in  Rome,  who  has  devoted  many 

years  to  the   preparation  of  a   History  of   the 

154 


THE  CRUISE  OF  THE  "BAYERN" 

Italian  Risorgimento;  his  splendid  library  at 
the  Palazzo  Orsini  contains  a  remarkable 
collection  of  books  and  pamphlets  on  the  sub- 
ject. There  was  William  Hooper  of  Boston,  a 
man  of  affairs  and  a  famous  Harvard  athlete, 
who  had  left  the  ease  of  his  apartment  opposite 
the  Palazzo  Margherita  in  Rome  to  act  as 
treasurer  to  the  expedition.  There  was  Wilfred 
Thompson,  the  painter,  who  had  left  his  studio 
and  his  little  cat,  to  act  as  supercargo;  Robert 
Hale,  another  painter,  who  in  the  list  of  as- 
sistants is  set  down  as  an  assistant  in  the  for- 
ward hold;  the  Avvocato  Giordano,  one  of  the 
most  brilliant  of  the  writers  on  the  Tribuna. 
There  was  Weston  Flint,  the  assistant  treasurer, 
four  Italian  doctors,  six  nurses,  and  John  Elliott 
(J.),  who  had  left  his  studio  to  act  "  as  interpreter 
and  to  assist  in  after  holds  and  elsewhere." 
These  were  the  permanent  members  of  the 
expedition.  Now  and  then  across  this  constella- 
tion of  fixed  stars  flamed  the  meteor  Chanler,  a 
trail  of  glory  behind  him,  and  the  indomitable 
Cutting,  our  Consul  from  Milan,  who  served  in 
a  thousand  capacities  beside  inducing  the  Ger- 
man sailors  to  carry  up  the  heavy  cases  to  the 

temporary  Consulate.    They  had  some  mishaps 

155 


SICILY  IN   SHADOW  AND   IN   SUN 

of  course.  The  first  day  Mr.  Gay  fell  down  and 
broke  a  rib;  the  same  day  J.  tumbled  down  an 
iron  ladder  into  the  hold  and  scraped  the  flesh 
off  his  lean  shanks.  Thompson,  who  had  a 
cough,  was  drenched  to  the  skin  over  and  over 
again  —  that  did  not  improve  his  health  —  and 
Cutting  —  alas  and  alas,  that  gallant  soul  who 
could  never  think  of  himself,  had  many  a  duck- 
ing besides  the  one  Thompson  describes,  and 
endured  endless  discomforts  at  the  "  temporary 
Consulate  "  where  he,  Chanler  and  Major  Landis 
lived  during  those  first  ghastly  days.  The  only 
tie  that  bound  together  these  men  of  varying 
tastes  and  habits,  was  the  Red  Cross  each 
wore  on  his  arm.  In  all  the  letters,  reports, 
journals  that  tell  the  story  of  the  "  Bayern's  " 
cruise  the  most  striking  thing  is  the  way 
these  men  speak  of  each  other.  Every  man  saw 
his  comrades  in  a  golden  glow  of  enthusiasm; 
they  were  all  good  men  and  true  in  their  fellows' 
eyes! 

As  the  "  Bayern  "  steamed  across  the  harbor 
of  Civitavecchia  J.  looked  into  the  blue  brocade 
saloon.  Sor  Michaele,  the  old  opera  singer,  sat 
at  the  white  and  gold  piano,  his  stiff  fingers 

surprisingly    limbered    up,    striking    the    keys 

156 


THE  CRUISE  OF  THE  "  BAYERN '' 

briskly,  while  his  shrunken  voice  quavered  out 
*'  Spirito  Gen  til,"  the  glorious  aria  from  La 
Favorita  that  he  had  sung  in  his  far  off  youth, 
now  made  familiar  the  world  over  by  Caruso 
and  the  "  Victor."  After  he  had  struck  the 
last  chords,  the  old  man's  head  dropped  on  his 
breast  and  he  began  to  sob. 

"  Coraggio !  "  cried  J.,  "  what  is  wrong  with 
you?  We're  almost  there;  your  troubles  are 
nearly  over." 

"  It  is  all  finished,"  sobbed  the  old  man.  "  I 
have  not  been  so  happy  for  twenty  years  as  I 
have  been  on  board  this  ship.  At  the  alms- 
house there  is  no  piano;  who  knows  if  I  shall 
ever  see  one  again  .^^  " 

Soon  after  the  *'  Bayern's  "  return,  the  Am- 
bassador despatched  a  relief  expedition  under 
the  leadership  of  Mr.  Gay  to  the  Calabrian 
mountain  towns.  Mr.  Gay  was  accompanied 
by  Captain  Armando  Mola  of  the  Italian  army, 
and  Mr.  W.  Earl  Dodge,  who  took  with  him  his 
large  automobile,  thereby  adding  greatly  to 
the  effectiveness  of  the  expedition.  They  had 
a  wonderful  trip,  visiting  forty  villages,  some 

of  them  almost  inaccessible  mountain  hamlets. 

157 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND  IN  SUN 

During  the  eleven  days  their  trip  lasted,  they 
brought  help  to  many  a  forlorn  community 
that  had  heretofore  received  no  outside  assist- 
ance since  the  disaster.  Mr.  Gay  has  written 
an  admirable  report  of  the  expedition,  so  full, 
so  graphic,  that  it  leaves  nothing  for  me  to  say, 
save  that  I  am  thankful  that  this  chapter  of 
the  romance  of  the  American  Relief  Work  has 
been  told  so  well.  The  report  should  be  read 
by  all  interested  in  knowing  the  full  scope  of 
the  work.  Mr.  Gay's  letter  to  the  Ambassador 
written  from  Palmi,  gives  a  striking  picture  of 
what  he  saw  and  accomplished. 

"  Palmi,  February  10th,  1909. 

"  American  Ambassador, 
"Rome  —  Palazzo  del  Drago. 

"  Tuesday,  after  an  hour  and  a  half  in  the 

automobile  on  very  bad  roads,  and  three  hours 

on   mules,   we  arrived   in   a  snowstorm   at  S. 

Cristina,  with  nine  mules  loaded  with  clothing, 

and  were  received  like  the  Messiah.    We  bought 

on  the  spot,  at  a  low  figure,  12,500  lire  worth  of 

standing  timber,  securing  thus  a  triple  benefit 

to  the  sufferers,  namely,  furnishing  shelter  to 

the  homeless,  saving  the  transport  on  the  lum- 

158 


THE  CRUISE  OF  THE  "  BAYERN  " 

ber  which  represents  forty  per  cent,  of  the  cost, 
and  giving  work  to  the  unoccupied  in  cutting 
the  wood.  Today  we  are  again  visiting  villages 
in  the  automobile.  Tomorrow  we  shall  start 
at  daybreak  in  the  automobile  for  Cittanova, 
Gerace,  Melito,  and  Reggio.  I  am  returning 
5000  lire  to  the  Committee,  left  over  from  the 
letter  of  credit  on  Palmi.  We  should  like,  if 
possible,  a  new  letter  of  credit  on  Reggio  for 
whatever  amount  the  Committee  thinks  ad- 
visable. 

"  We  should  also  like  for  General  Tarditi, 
addressed  as  before,  a  freight  car  of  miscel- 
laneous supplies  as  follows :  400  litres  of  benzine 
to  replace  what  we  have  borrowed  here;  400 
blankets;  200  panes  of  glass  60  centimetres 
square;  100  locks,  with  ordinary  keys  but  all 
different;  together  with  the  following  supplies 
for  use  in  the  hospital  which  will  be  opened 
within  a  week:  50  white  varnished  chairs,  with 
6  arm-chairs  for  the  sick,  to  match;  50  wrap- 
pers, 50  pair  of  slippers,  and  50  caps  for  the 
sick;  6  wall  washstands  of  white  earthen  ware; 
6  alcohol  stoves  which  can  be  had  from  Bian- 
chelli  for  about  35  lire  each;   400  square  metres 

of  oil-cloth  of  a  light  color,  to  cover  ceilings  of 

159 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND  IN  SUN 

the  hospital  wards;  200  square  metres  of  the 
same  of  a  dark  color,  to  cover  the  wainscoting; 
350  square  metres  of  linoleum  of  a  dark  color 
for  floors. 

"  Our  telegraphic  address  tomorrow  will  be, 
Telegraph  Office,  Reggio. 

"  We  shall  telephone  tonight.     All  well. 

"  Gay." 


160 


V 

ROYAL  VISITORS 

"  Not  a  rose!  "  Vera  scanned  the  sunny  south 
wall  where  Ignazio,  the  gardener,  has  trained 
the  hardy  roses.  It  has  been  his  boast  that  we 
can  gather  at  least  one  rose  every  day  of  the 
year. 

"  What  do  you  expect?  The  earthquake 
has  turned  the  calendar  topsy-turvy.  Nena 
says  this  is  the  coldest  winter  she  remembers; 
she  must  be  nearly  a  hundred." 

It  was  the  terrace  hour;  Vera  had  dropped  in 
to  help  with  the  flowers.  It  was  too  cold  to 
water  them,  so  we  "  pottered  about,"  weeded, 
and  hunted  snails. 

"That's  a  brave  flower!  See,  it  has  three 
blossoms;  if  the  sun  comes  out  tomorrow  there 
may  be  more."  Vera  counted  the  pretty 
trumpet-shaped  blossoms  of  the  freesia,  growing 
in  the  old  terra-cotta  cinerary  urn. 

'*  This  once  held  the  ashes  of  a  soldier  of  the 
Pretorian  Guard,"  said  Vera.     She  had  given 

us  the  urn.     "  Do  you  suppose  a  pinch  of  his 

161 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND  IN  SUN 

dust  remains  in  it?  There's  your  freesia's 
courage  accounted  for.  I  wonder  what  he  was 
called.  Herminius,  Spurius  Lartius.^  There 
was  neither  name  nor  date  when  I  bought  it; 
they  must  have  been  on  the  missing  cover. 
What  noble  action!  "  Vera's  thumb  followed, 
with  the  sculptor's  gesture,  the  lines  of 
the  Pretorian,  modelled  in  low  relief  on  the 
urn.  He  wears  a  mantle,  helmet  and  greaves; 
his  spear  is  raised  against  a  crouching  bar- 
barian. "  He  must  have  been  a  fine  man,  our 
Pretoriati,  though  this  isn't  a  portrait,  only  a 
type.  Oh,  how  civilized  those  old  Romans  were! 
No  ugly  bones,  no  grinning  skulls.  The  worn- 
out  body  to  the  clean  flame,  the  handful  of 
ashes  to  this  graceful  urn,  that  two  thousand 
years  after  the  Pretorian's  death  serves  as  a 
a  flower  pot." 

*'  I  believe  his  name  was  Philippus,"  I  said, 
"  and  that  he  looked  like  our  Philippus.  The 
regiment  has  returned  from  Messina  without 
him.  I  fear  something  has  happened  to  our 
handsome  soldier." 

"  Hush!  "  cried  Vera.    "  The  earthquake  was 

a  month  ago;   it  still  is  the  only  thing  we  talk 

or  think  about." 

i62 


ROYAL  VISITORS 

"  Some  of  our  friends  begin  to  forget.  The 
mother  of  a  pretty  girl  was  grumbling  today 
because  the  Queen  says  there  shall  be  no  court 
balls,  no  more  dancing  this  season.  She  does 
not  forget;  no  one  who  has  seen  Messina 
forgets!  " 

"  Come,  let  us  walk!  "    There  was  a  touch  of 

tramontana  in  the  air,  and  we  began  to  pace  up 

and  down  the  terrace,  Romulus,  Vera's  uncouth 

puppy,  shambling  at  her  heel.     The  bells  of 

St.  Peter's  were  ringing  the  Ave  Maria;  from  the 

Pincio  came  little  gusts  of  music,  —  the  band 

was  playing  Cavalleria  Rusticana.     At  either 

end  of  the  terrace  we  lingered  to  feast  on  the 

beauty  of  the  view;   to  the  east  the  white  road 

climbs  zigzag  from  the  Piazza  del  Popolo  to 

the  Pincio,  with  its  crown  of  dark  cypresses  and 

stone  pines,  its  wonderful  clipped  ilex  walk  that 

leads  to  the  Villa  Medici,  home  of  nightingale 

and  rose.     To  the  west  we  looked   down  to 

the  yellow  Tiber,  angry  and  swollen,  hurrying 

to  the  sea.     The  river  was  higher  than  I  ever 

saw  it;    the  driftwood,  caught  by  the  piers  of 

the  Ponte  Margherita,  reached  half-way  to  the 

level  of  the  bridge. 

"  A  thousand  apologies!  "  said  a  voice  behind 
163 


SICILY  JN  SHADOW  AND   IN  SUN 

us;  "  is  not  this  the  tortoise  of  your  Excellency? 
The  German  maid  found  it  on  the  terrace  of  the 
Princess." 

It  was  Ignazio,  holding  between  scornful 
thumb  and  finger  that  yellow  mottled  vagrant, 
Jeremy  Bentham,  who  clawed  the  air  furiously 
with  his  ridiculous  short  legs  and  snapped 
fiercely  at  Ignazio. 

"  You  are  aware  the  tortoise  is  ours;  you 
yourself  carved  that  date  upon  his  shell.  If 
you  had  stopped  the  hole  in  the  wall  this  would 
not  have  happened." 

"  Excellency  "  (Ignazio's  bill  was  paid  that 
morning;  he  will  call  me  "  Excellency  "  till  the 
next  is  due,  then  it  w^ill  be  "  Signora  "),  "  Excel- 
lency, this  is  the  most  obstinate  of  all  animals, 
the  slowest,  the  idlest,  the  most  useless." 
Ignazio  dipped  the  tortoise  in  the  fountain,  then 
laid  him  on  the  parapet  out  of  reach  of  Romulus, 
who  was  making  frantic  efforts  to  get  at  him. 

"  You  yourself  tell  me  he  eats  the  slugs  and 
snails  that  destroy  our  flowers!  " 

"  I  repeat  it,  but  he  has  embarrassed  me 
extremely  in  regard  to  the  Princess,  who 
becomes  ill  at  the  sight  of  him.   This  is  the  third 

time  he  has  invaded  her  terrace." 

164 


ROYAL  VISITORS 

*'  How  about  that  boy  from  Messina  you 
promised  to  employ?  "  asked  Vera.  '*  He  is 
quite  well  again;  it's  time  he  went  to  work.  I 
can't  have  him  idling  about  my  kitchen  any 
longer." 

Ignazio  would  not  have  come  up  to  the  terrace 
had  he  known  Vera  was  there.  He  nervously 
nibbled  the  yellow  fibre  he  had  brought  to  tie 
up  the  passion-flower  vine. 

**  Excellency,  no!  I  said  I  would  try  to  find 
him  employment.  I  have  done  so.  Capperi !  I 
have  asked  an  infinite  number  of  persons  — 
always  the  same  answer.  In  Rome  there  is  not 
work  enough  for  the  Romans,  nor  bread  to 
spare.  The  Sicilians  must  go  back  to  Sicily, 
or,"  he  waved  his  hand  vaguely  towards  Ostia, 
*'  over  there."     Over  there  meant  to  America. 

"  Where  were  you  born,  Ignazio .^^ "  I  inter- 
rupted. '*  You  do  not  speak  like  a  Romano  di 
Roma."  His  glance  was  a  reproach;  I  had 
betrayed  him. 

*'  It  is  true,  I  am  from  Siena  —  but  there  is 
a  difference  between  an  Umbrian  and  a  Sicilian !" 

"It  is  always  the  same  story!  "  I  said.     *'  I 

have  asked  every  plumber  in  Rome  to  employ 

Francesco  Calabresi.     They  will   give  money, 

165 


SICILY  IN   SHADOW  AND   IN   SUN 

bread,  clothes;  to  a  man  they  refuse  him 
work." 

"Self  preservation!  Oh,  how  worldly-wise 
the  old  race  is!  The  man's  right  though;  there 
is  not  work  enough  to  go  round;  one  must 
consider  one's  own  interests  or  we  should  all 
go  bankrupt.  That's  what  *  mind  your  business ' 
means!  If  you  don't  look  out  for  yourself, 
some  one  else  must." 

J.  came  up  on  the  terrace  at  that  moment; 
Vera  waved  her  little  hand  gaily  to  him. 

"  What  news  from  Messina.^  " 

'*  No  news;  I  wish  I  knew  how  they  are  get- 
ting on." 

"  I  have  a  letter  from  the  Avvocato  Bonanno, 
asking  about  the  family  of  Count  Q." 

*'  I  have  just  come  from  there.  I  will  write 
him.  The  Count  can  speak  now,  but  he's 
paralyzed,  he  will  never  walk  again." 

"  You're  fretting  to  get  back  to  Sicily;  so 
am  I." 

It  was  true;  since  his  return   from  the  cruise 

of    the    "  Bayern,"    Rome,     even    his    studio, 

seemed  tame  to  J.     How  could  he,  and  Vera 

too,  long  to  go  back  to  that  place  of  death, 

when  Rome,  the  Eternal  City,  wooed  with  the 

166 


ROYAL  VISITORS 

voice  of  her  fountains,  the  perfumed  breath  of 
her  villas,  the  beauty  of  her  everlasting  hills? 

'*  I  have  had  an  inspiration,"  Vera  made  the 
pretty  insistent  gesture  of  her  finger  that  rules 
us  all.  "  This  is  the  psychological  moment 
to  exhibit  your  Diana.  Rome  is  sick  with  grief! 
There's  nothing  going  on,  not  a  reception,  not 
even  a  dinner.  Any  invitation  to  do  anything, 
besides  give  money  and  sew  garments  jpro  Cala- 
bria e  Sicilia,  will  be  a  godsend.  That's  the 
practical  side  of  it;  then  there's  the  other  side. 
We  have  supped  full  on  horrors;  comfort  us 
with  a  sight  of  the  lovely  lady." 

Most  of  her  friends  follow  Vera's  advice,  for 
her's  is  a  master  spirit;  when  she  takes  hold  of 
one's  affairs,  somehow  they  always  march. 

The  next  week  was  a  busy  one.  Vera  decided 
that  we  must  ask  "  all  Rome  "  to  the  exhibi- 
tion. In  order  to  do  this  we  borrowed  lists 
from  all  sorts  of  people.  A  little  white  and  gold 
book,  the  Roman  social  register,  contains  the 
names  of  all  the  Court  people,  the  diplomats,  and 
those  who  belong  to  the  *'  smart  set."  Then 
there  were  the  lists  of  the  San  Lucca  Academy 
and  the  Art  Club.    From  the  bankers  and  hotels 

we  gathered  as  many  names  of  the  transient 

167 


SICILY  IN   SHADOW  AND  IN   SUN 

Americans  as  possible;  all  our  friends  helped 
us.  When  the  long  list  was  ready  I  sent  to  an 
employment  bureau  for  some  one  to  direct  the 
envelopes. 

She  came,  bringing  her  credentials,  at  five 
o'clock;  as  she  was  an  English  lady,  and  evi- 
dently very  poor,  we  asked  her  to  stay  to  tea. 
She  sat  in  the  Savonarola  chair  (it  belonged  to 
Giovanni  Costa,  the  great  artist  —  J.  bought 
it  after  his  death)  and  took  her  tea  timidly, 
spilling  a  little  on  her  poor  faded  dress,  and 
crumbling  the  pan-forte  di  Siena  (sent  us  at 
Christmas  from  Milan)  over  the  best  Persian 
rug.  That  ought  to  have  been  a  warning  to 
me,  but  it  wasn't !  We  sent  the  envelopes  and 
the  lists  to  her  and  turned  our  minds  to  other 
things.  The  exhibition  was  to  open  Tuesday, 
February  2nd.  The  envelopes  were  promised 
for  the  previous  Saturday,  so  that  the  cards 
might  be  put  in,  the  stamps  affixed,  the  invita- 
tions posted  Saturday  night.  They  would  then 
be  received  on  Sunday  morning,  a  good  leisure 
time  when  busy  people  have  time  to  read  their 
mail.  Vera,  Athol,  and  Wilfred  Thompson  came 
to  dine  Saturday  to  help  us  with  the  envelopes. 

It  was  our  first  social  meeting  since  that  fatal 

168 


ROYAL  VISITORS 

night  of  December  :28th ;  we  had  all  of  us  need 
of  a  little  joy;  the  pain  of  the  last  month  had 
left  its  mark. 

Agnese  herself  bought  the  stamps;  she  would 
trust  no  other.  I  had  meant  to  send  the  cards 
by  hand  —  it  costs  no  more,  and  would  have 
given  employment  to  Alessandro,  a  poveraccio 
who  has  attached  himself  to  us. 

"  These  higlietti  are  important?  "  asked  Ag- 
nese when  I  consulted  her  about  Alessandro. 

"  Of  the  greatest  importance." 

"  Listen  to  me,  Signora.  I  would  not  destroy 
your  confidence  in  Alessandro,  no,  nor  in  any 
other,  but  the  distances  are  far,  the  Tiber  is 
near  —  Alessandro  might,  by  accident,  let  fall 
a  bunch  of  these  letters  as  he  crosses  the  bridge. 
The  postino  is  obliged  to  make  his  rounds,  the 
carabinieri  keep  an  eye  on  him.  No,  it  is  safer 
to  trust  the  post !  " 

Agnese's  dinners  are  not  like  Attilio's  (Vera's 
great  Neapolitan  chef),  but  she  has  a  way  of 
cooking  truffles  in  white  wine  and  serving  them 
in  a  napkin,  to  be  eaten  with  fresh  butter,  that 
seems  to  please.  Checco  of  the  Concordia  gets 
us  the  truffles  from  some  mysterious  unfailing 

source,  when  they  are  not  to  be  had  in  the 

169 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND  IN  SUN 

market.  Agnese's  fritta  dorata  of  shrimps, 
cuttlefish  and  artichokes  is  fit  for  the  King  or 
the  Pope,  or  Mr.  Roosevelt  —  his  sister  once 
ate  one  of  Agnese's  golden  frys  and  liked  it. 
After  dinner  the  table  was  cleared,  two  white 
aprons  were  borrowed  for  Vera  and  me,  and  the 
big  packages  of  envelopes  were  opened  and  laid 
out  on  the  table. 

"  We  had  better  look  them  over,  don't  you 
think .f^  "  said  Athol,  the  wise,  taking  up  an 
envelope.  "  She  has  a  good  handwriting  — 
but  she  makes  queer  work  of  these  foreign 
titles.  His  Excellency  the  Count  and  the 
Countess  Lutzow,  —  really  now  that  won't  do!  " 

We  looked  at  each  other  in  despair;  each 
had  found  the  most  egregious  and  impossible 
blunders.  All  the  addresses  except  the  English 
and  Americans,  it  had  been  agreed,  were  to 
be  written  in  French. 

'*  They  must  all  be  done  over  again!"  I 
cried. 

'*  No,  no,  it  s  not  so  bad  as  that.  The  English 
ones  are  all  right.  We  must  go  over  the  whole 
lot,  though,  sort  out  the  bad  ones  and  redirect 
them." 

"  Who  IS  going  to  do  it.^  "  I  groaned.    That 
170 


ROYAL  VISITORS 

was  the  question.  Vera's  handwriting,  though 
distinguished,  is  cryptic,  owing  to  her  having 
learned  to  write  German  and  Russian  before 
the  Latin  script.  Athol's  tired  hand  had  held 
the  pen  for  eight  hours  that  day,  and  could  not 
be  further  taxed.  J.'s  handwriting  is  a  work  of 
art,  and  art  is  long;  my  own  is  frankly  bad. 
Thompson  had  thrown  himself  into  the  work  of 
putting  in  the  cards  and  sticking  up  the  en- 
velopes. 

"  Handwriting  is  the  only  thing  that  does  not 
improve  with  practice  —  the  more  a  man  writes, 
the  worse  he  writes,"  said  Athol.  Here  the 
bell  rang  insistently;  a  minute  later  Agnese 
announced : 

"  Quella  Signora  bella  ed  altaf 

The  beautiful  and  tall  lady  followed  close 
upon  her,  Elinor  Diederich,  daughter  of  those 
gods  of  our  youth,  William  and  Louisa  Hunt. 
Despair,  dismay,  doubt  vanished  before  her; 
she  blew  them  all  away,  as  the  fresh  west  wind 
blows  vapors  and  fog  and  leaves  the  sun  bright 
in  the  sky;  that  is  what  it  is  to  inherit  the  tem- 
perament of  genius. 

"  Of  course,"  said  Elinor,  picking  up  one  of 

the   badly   directed   envelopes,    *'  I   knew   this 

171 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND  IN  SUN 

would  happen.  That's  the  reason  I  came.  I 
have  had  an  experience  of  that  poor  thing's 
work  myself.  I  brought  my  pen;  my  hand- 
writing's the  best  thing  about  me."  She  was 
hard  at  it,  directing  invitations  in  a  handsome 
hand,  as  if  that  had  been  her  calling. 

At  ten  o'clock  the  bell  rang  again;  there  was 
a  parley  in  the  anticamera;  a  faint  odor  of 
cigarette  smoke  floated  into  the  room. 

"  It's  Emilio,"  J.  exclaimed.  "  Show  the 
Signorino  in!  " 

Emilio  Benlieuri,  the  Spanish  sculptor,  one 
of  our  familiars,  appeared  in  the  doorway,  a  tall 
lean  melancholy  man  with  the  burning  eyes 
and  the  grave  bearing  of  the  Valencian  Don. 

He  bowed  low  to  the  whole  company.  "  I 
kiss  your  feet,  Senora,"  he  began  in  Castilian. 

"  I  kiss  your  hand,  Caballero,"  I  responded. 

"It  is  getting  late,"  whispered  Elinor, 
*'  really,  this  isn't  the  time  for  compliments. 
Make  him  put  on  the  stamps  —  they'll  taste 
good  to  a  hungry  man!  " 

The  Valencian,  who  speaks  no  English,  under- 
stood the  large  gesture  with  which  Elinor 
invited  him  to  join  the  circle,  and  drew  up  a 
chair  to  the  round  table. 

172 


ROYAL   VISITORS 

'*  One  more  volunteer  to  the  relief!  "  mur- 
mured Vera.  "  Per  carita  Agnese,  a  sponge; 
the  situation  is  saved!" 

Silence  settled  upon  the  dining  room;  the 
only  sounds  were  the  scratch-scratch  of  Elinor's 
pen,  the  snores  of  Romulus  curled  up  at  Vera's 
feet,  the  tinkle  of  the  fountain  up  on  the 
terrace  under  the  stars  near  the  Pretorian's 
cinerary  urn,  the  rustle  of  the  cards  going  into 
the  envelopes.  On  the  Gothic  sideboard  which 
J.  made  for  our  Roman  home,  the  pile  of  in- 
vitations, sealed  and  stamped,  rose  higher  and 
higher,  finally  hiding  the  legend  carved  in 
quaint  letters  at  the  top: 

*'  Better  a  dinner  of  herbs  where  love  is  than 
a  stalled  ox  and  hatred  therewith." 

How  much  better  we  never  realized  perhaps 

till  that  night,  when  the  loyalty  and  devotion 

of  our  friends  helped  us  out  of  that  tight  place. 

Love  is  the  real  lifting  power  when  all  is  said. 

The  love  of  the  whole  world  was  helping  Italy 

in  her  dark  hour;    the  love  of  our  little  circle 

of  heart  friends  lifted  and  carried  us  over  that 

difficult  moment,  smoothed  out  the  only  hitch 

in  the  preparations  for  Vera's  exhibition. 

We  worked  till   long  after  midnight.     The 

173 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND  IN  SUN 

faithful  Valencian  was  the  last  to  go;  he  de- 
parted in  a  cab,  taking  the  invitations  with  him 
to  the  Posta  Generale.  Sunday  morning  "  all 
Rome  "  received  the  card  at  its  breakfast: 

Lorenzo,  the  muratore,  one  of  our  oldest 
friends,  arrived  early  Sunday  morning  to  put 
the  studio  in  order.  Lorenzo  was  Villegas's 
factotum  in  the  days  when  our  dear  Maestro 
lived  in  his  Andalusian  villa  on  the  Viale 
Pariole,  before  his  Mother  Spain  called  him 
to  Madrid  to  be  custodian  of  her  greatest 
treasure,  the  Prado  Museum.  We  had  not 
sent  for  Lorenzo  because  we  knew  he  had  met 
with  an  accident.  What  wireless  telegraphy  had 
summoned  him  just  when  he  was  needed.'' 

"What  a  pleasure  to  see  thee!"  Agnese 
exclaimed  as  she  let  Lorenzo  in.  "  And  thy 
foot.''  Will  it  allow  thee  to  work.^  The  Signore 
was  bewailing  that  thou  couldst  not  wax  the 
studio  floor.  Thou  knowest  he  believes  no  other 
is  to  be  trusted." 

*'  It  is  true  that  I  am  lame.  Behold  my  foot. 
I  can  wear  no  boot,  only  this  slipper  of  a  giant. 
But  as  to  waxing  the  floor,  I  can  do  it  on  my 
knees.    The  Signore  is  right,  I  only  can  execute 

that  labor  with  fidelity.     As  to  the  injury  — 

174 


ROYAL  VISITORS 

well,  it  was  received  in  the  service  of  the  electric 
company  that  employs  me.  They  have  agreed 
to  pay  me  a  pension  till  I  can  go  back  to  work. 
What  matters  it  if  the  recovery  is  retarded?  I 
draw  my  three  francs  a  day,  fresh  and  fresh. 
Do  you  think  I  would  abandon  the  Signorc  at 
such  a  moment?  Thou  art  new  in  this  house. 
Who  was  it  that  prepared  the  old  studio  for 
the  visit  of  her  Majesty  the  Queen?  But  that 
was  years  ago  before  thy  time!  " 

From  that  moment  I  had  no  anxiety  about 
the  studio.  Lorenzo,  a  Romagnolo,  is  a  tireless 
worker,  one  of  those  Italians  who  have  won  for 
their  countrymen  the  reputation  of  being  the 
greatest  workers  in  the  world. 

"  I  wish  I  could  buy  him!  "  sighed  J.  when 
I  told  him  Lorenzo  had  come. 

Monday  was  a  busy  day;  the  old  Portuguese 
leather  chair,  that  the  Queen  sat  in  on  her  last 
visit,  was  taken  over  to  the  studio,  the  best 
rugs,  the  two  Japanese  screens,  and  the  Savona- 
rola chair.  A  table  was  put  near  the  door  with 
some  sheets  of  paper,  pens  and  ink,  in  case 
anybody  should  want  to  write.  At  the  last 
minute  Brother  Harry,   who  happened  to  be 

passing  through  Rome,  gave  a  valuable  hint: 

175 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND  IN  SUN 

"  Of  course  you  are  going  to  send  that 
portrait  of  the  mother  to  the  studio  ?  " 

"  Why  ?  "  said  J.,  "  I  never  thought  of  it." 

"  Well,  thiak  of  it  now,"  said  Brother  Hany. 
We  thought  of  it,  in  the  end,  thought  well  of 
it.  The  day  the  exhibition  opened  the  portrait 
of  the  old  Chieftainess  stood  on  an  easel  in  the 
studio,  ready  to  "  receive  "  visitors  with  Diana. 

Agnese  called  me  early  Tuesday  morning. 

**  Signora,  let  us  go  to  the  studio  to  arrange 
the  flowers,"  she  said.  "  With  respect  I  should 
prefer  it  were  done  before  Lorenzo  comes.  He  is 
prepotente,  some  things  he  knows,  I  do  not  deny ; 
but  the  flowers  —  ah,  that  is  an  art  by  itself !  " 

At  five  minutes  of  ten  the  last  touch  had  been 
given  to  the  studio;  J.  and  I  stood  waiting  to 
receive  the  guests. 

"  Suppose  nobody  comes !  " 

The  answer  came  quick  and  sharp;  Lorenzo, 
dressed  in  his  best,  wearing  one  ordinary  and 
one  giant  boot,  his  hair  shining  like  the  studio 
floor,  threw  open  the  door  and  announced  with 
a  beaming  smile : 

"  QuelSignorinomatto!  "That  mad  young  man. 

"  So  you  thought  you  would  play  this  hand 
without  me  ?  "  said  a  familiar  voice. 

176 


ROYAL  \lSITORS 

*'  Patsy !  " 

WTiere  had  he  come  from  ?  We  last  heard  of 
him  at  the  hacienda  of  our  friend  the  Argentino, 
in  South  America. 

"  Same  old  two-and-sixpence,  always  in  at 
the  death!  There's  no  end  of  a  swell  from  the 
Celestial  Empire  on  the  stairs! '' 

"  His  Excellency  the  jVIinister  of  China," 
Lorenzo  announced. 

The  Chinese  Minister,  followed  by  his  suite, 
walked  into  the  studio  on  the  stroke  of  ten,  the 
first  minute  of  the  first  day  of  the  exhibition. 

"  Ai't,  you  see,  is  a  matter  of  importance  to 
these  people,"  Pasty  murmured  to  me.  "  An 
invitation  to  a  studio  deserves  to  be  treated 
with  respect,  ^^^len  you  show  that  tableau 
in  America  I  wonder  if  the  mayor,  the  governor, 
the  sheriff,  or  even  the  hog-reeve,  will  take  the 
trouble  to  come  and  see  it.  The  representative 
of  the  Chinese  Empire  comes  in  person  at  the 
first  possible  moment.  That's  my  idea  of  a 
civilized  people  I  "' 

The  Minister  and  J.  were  talking  in  panto- 
mime, none  the  less  cordially  for  that.  His 
Excellency    wore    seraphic    clothes,    had    lovely 

polished  manners;    his  hand  was  smooth  as  a 

177 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND  IN  SUN 

roseleaf,  his  long  nails  were  miraculous.  The 
party  stayed  for  some  time  and  seemed  pleased 
with  their  visit.  After  they  had  gone,  leaving 
a  faint  perfume  of  sandalwood  and  straw- 
matting  behind  them,  one  of  the  younger  men 
returned.  (He  was  not  of  the  Legation  we 
heard  afterwards).  From  the  first  he  had 
seemed  deeply  impressed  with  the  Diana;  he 
hurried  up  to  J.,  and  pointing  to  the  divine 
Huntress  whispered : 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  Mister;   is  that  God  ?  " 

Our  next  visitor  was  a  dark  energetic  Italian, 
with  beautiful  manners.  He  gave  no  name,  none 
of  us  had  any  idea  of  who  he  was.  He  was 
deeply  interested  in  the  painting,  looked  at  it 
from  every  point  of  view,  and  asked  many  ques- 
tions about  its  final  destination.  He  was  not 
an  artist,  of  that  we  felt  sure,  but  he  was  a 
man  with  more  than  a  dilettante's  interest  in 
art.  At  the  end  of  his  visit,  as  he  went  towards 
the  door,  he  saw  the  pens  and  paper  lying  on 
the  table. 

"  Shall  I  write  my  name  ?  "  he  asked  politely; 
then  in  a  bold  hand  wrote  *'  Luigi  Rava." 

"  Who  is  he  ?  "  I  asked  after  the  dark  unknown 
had  driven  off  in  his  carriage. 

178 


ROYAL  VISITORS 

"  Only  the  Minister  of  Education.  Rome 
seems  to  be  taking  your  show  seriously,"  Patsy 
declared.  "  That  was  a  good  idea,  writing  his 
name;  mind  you  make  everybody  else  follow 
suit.  You're  likely  to  have  some  interesting 
autographs  before  you're  finished." 

None  so  interesting  as  the  Chinese  Minister's 
and  it  was  too  late  for  that.  We  followed 
Patsy's  advice;  after  that  all  the  visitors  wrote 
their  names.  That  afternoon  the  studio  was 
crowded  with  all  sorts  and  conditions  of  men 
and  women;  artists,  tourists,  ambassadors, 
beauties  and  princes. 

*'  You  are  the  fashion;  don't  be  too  much 
pufiFed  up  by  that,"  Patsy  admonished;  "it's 
because  yours  is  the  only  free  show  open  in 
town! " 

The  exhibition  was  to  have  lasted  five  days; 
we  had  to  keep  it  open  a  fortnight.  As  Patsy 
said,  it  became  the  fashion  to  drop  into  the 
studio,  a  spacious  room  in  the  handsome  new 
Studio  Corrodi  by  the  Tiber.  We  never  liked 
it  so  well  as  the  old  studio  in  the  Borgo  Sant' 
Angelo,  but  it  was  more  convenient  for  such 
a  reception.  There  is  a  pretty  garden  with  a 
brand  new  fountain  and  brand  new  flowers  at 

179 


SICILY   IN   SHADOW   AND   IN   SUN 

the  Corrodi;    it  is  smart,  up  to  date,  belonging 

to  the  new  order  of  things  in  Roma  Nuova. 

One   afternoon   Archbishop   Ireland   and   his 

train   of  attendant  Abbesses   came  to  see   us. 

The    Archbishop's    sister    and    several    other 

Mothers  Superior  had  come  from  America  to 

visit  Rome;    they  were  a  picturesque  group. 

The  Archbishop's  sister  was  a  cheery  delightful 

soul;   another  of  the  Mothers  was  so  lovely  J. 

wanted  to  paint  her  as  Santa  Theresa.     We 

met  them  first  at  the  studio  of  Carolus  Duran 

(now  Director  of  the  French  Academy)  in  the 

Villa  Medici.      The  "  Cher  Maitre  "  has  brought 

several  of  his  masterpieces  from  Paris  to  Rome, 

among  others  a  study  for  a  crucifixion,  a  really 

noble  composition;    America  ought  to  have  it. 

The  Church  is  so  rich  in  our  country  that  she 

could  well  afford  to  give  him  a  handsome  order 

for  it.    The  Abbesses  in  their  long  veils,  taking 

tea  with  the  great  French  painter,  was  one  of 

those  impressions  of  the  contrasts  of  Roman 

life  I  shall  not  forget.     They  all  came  to  our 

studio;    among  the  treasured  names  in  the  list 

of  autographs  are  those  of  Mother  Celestine, 

Mother  Seraphine,  Mother  Agnes  Gonzaga. 

"  They  remind  me,"   said  Patsy,   after  the 
180 


ROYAL   VISITORS 

Archbishop  and  the  ladies  took  their  leave, 
"  of  Sir  Joseph  Porter,  K.  C.  B.,  his  sisters  and 
his  cousins  and  his  aunts!  " 

Patsy  was  of  the  greatest  use.  He  was  at  the 
studio  almost  as  much  as  we  ourselves.  He 
devoted  himself  to  the  humbler  guests  if  there 
happened  to  be  some  great  personage  to  whom 
J.  had  to  attend. 

"  It's  a  good  thing  to  have  friends  in  every 
calling,"  said  Patsy;  "  you  never  know  just 
when  they  may  come  in  handy."  I  had  re- 
proached him  for  neglecting  lovely  Donna 
Beatrice  for  old  Checco,  the  proprietor  of  the 
Concordia  restaurant. 

"  Checco  has  given  me  credit  many  a  time 
when  it  would  have  gone  hard  with  me  to  get 
a  meal  anywhere  else!  "  he  said. 

On  the  eighth  of  February  a  note  came  from 
the  Marchese  Guiccioli,  Queen  Margherita's 
gentleman-in-waiting.  The  superscription,  Casa 
della  Regina  Madre,  set  the  whole  house  in  a 
flutter.  Eugenio,  the  porter,  himself  brought 
the  royal  messenger  up  in  the  lift.  Agnese, 
w^ho  took  the  letter  from  him,  came  hurrying 
to  the  terrace,  where  Ignazio  and  I  were  talking 
about  the  wall  flowers. 

181 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND  IN  SUN 

*'  See  to  it,"  I  was  saying,  "  that  this  thing 
does  not  happen  again.  You  were  paid  a  large 
price  for  these  flowers,  enormous  sums  were 
charged  for  concime  (fertilizer)  and  they  have 
done  badly.  Last  season  they  were  poor  spindly 
little  things,  while  those  that  sprang  by  chance 
from  a  crevice  in  the  wall  by  the  water  pipe 
were  a  glory.  Expound  to  me  the  reason  of 
this  absurdity." 

"  Signora,  how  can  I  explain  the  laws  of 
God?  It  is  according  to  their  nature.  Those 
wall  flowers  that  come  up  by  chance  without 
care  always  seem  the  fairest,  perhaps  because 
they  grow  beyond  our  reach.  Those  you  speak 
of  so  abusively  smelt  like  honey;  you  yourself 
complained  that  they  attracted  not  only  the 
butterflies  but  the  bees  from  the  priest's  hive." 

"A  messenger  from  the  Palazzo  Margherita 
brought  this."  Agnese  offered  the  letter  on  the 
best  silver  tray  she  so  rarely  is  willing  to  use. 
It  is  not  well,  she  argues,  that  the  first-comer 
should  know  we  have  such  a  valuable  thing  in 
the  house,  and  use  it  so  commonly.  It  might 
be  stolen  or,  almost  as  bad,  reported  so  that  the 
tax  for  richezza  mobile  would  be  augmented. 

"  This  letter  is  for  the  Signore,"  I  said. 

182 


ROYAL  VISITORS 

'*  Without  doubt  —  the  Signora  has  reason  — 
but  being  of  so  much  importance  she  will  open 
it?  " 

**  Certainly  not."  Agnese  and  Ignazio  were 
burnt  up  with  curiosity  about  the  letter;  they 
could  hardly  wait  till  J.'s  return.  Lorenzo, 
who  had  followed  Agnese,  is  more  canny  though 
quite  as  curious. 

"Imbeciles!  don't  you  know  that  to  break 
the  seal  of  a  letter  from  the  Casa  Reale  is  an 
offense,'^  I  know  perfectly  well  what  it  con- 
tains; as  I  see  you  are  beside  yourselves  with 
curiosity,  I  will  tell  you  that  —  you  too  shall 
know  in  good  time!  " 

J.  had  gone  for  a  walk  along  the  Tiber  to  the 
Ponto  Milvio;  he  returned  sooner  than  I  ex- 
pected. Eugenio,  panting  with  suspense,  had 
pursued  and  brought  him  back.  The  letter 
brought  the  news  that  Queen  Margherita  would 
come  to  the  studio  the  next  afternoon.  As  we 
were  already  in  apple-pie  order,  there  was 
nothing  for  Lorenzo  to  do  but  put  fresh  laurel 
branches  in  the  vases  and  add  a  little  polish 
to  the  *'  Queen's  Chair." 

Punctually  to  the  minute  the  royal  carriage 

drew  up  at  the  door  of  the  Studio  Corrodi. 

183 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND   IN   SUN 

The  servants  on  the  box  were  dressed  in  dark 
colors,  —  the  splendid  scarlet  liveries,  alas! 
are  Queen  Margherita's  no  longer;  they  are 
only  worn  by  the  servants  of  the  reigning  Queen. 
J.  received  her  Majesty  at  the  carriage  door  and 
escorted  her  up  the  marble  stair  to  the  big 
new  studio.  What  a  contrast  to  the  dear  old 
studio  with  the  ancient  courtyard,  the  mur- 
muring fountain  hundreds  of  years  old,  the 
water- worn  stones  dark  with  ages,  where  the 
maiden-hair  fern  grows  in  great  feathery  tufts ! 
It  all  came  back  to  me  with  a  sudden  rush  of 
memory,  as  I  followed  the  Queen  up  the  wide 
white  marble  stair.  I  saw  the  two  long  flights 
of  hollowed  travertina  steps  that  led  to  the  old 
studio,  the  uneven  brick  floor,  the  window  that 
gave  on  the  court,  where  the  falcon  and  the 
white  doves  from  the  Vatican  lived,  the  birds 
of  whose  wings  J.  made  such  endless  studies 
for  the  Hours  in  his  "  Triumph  of  Time."  How 
many  hours,  months,  years,  had  flown  by  since 
we  three  last  met! 

Queen  Margherita  walked  across  the  polished 
floor  with  the  light  step  of  a  girl,  and  quite 
naturally,   without  prompting,  took  her  place 

in  the  "  Queen's  Chair."    The  social  tempera- 

184 


ROYAL   VISITORS 

ture  rose  —  we  felt  as  children  for  whom  "  the 
party  has  begun."  How  does  she  do  it?  That's 
her  secret,  she  could  not  tell  us  if  she  would. 
She  is  one  of  those  rare  beings  who  bring  their 
own  sunshine  with  them,  whose  presence  warms 
us  to  the  heart's  core!  We  hold  out  our  hands 
towards  the  kindly  glow,  as  we  stretch  chilled 
fingers  to  a  cheerful  fire. 

"It's  because  she's  all  there!"  Patsy  said 
afterwards,  trying  to  explain  what  we  had  all 
felt.  After  one  quick  glance  about  the  studio, 
the  royal  visitor  fixed  her  eyes  on  the  big  canvas. 

"  This  is  your  Diana  of  the  Tides  for  the  new 
museum  at  Washington.'^  "  she  said  to  J.  *'  A 
fine  opportunity;  I  congratulate  you.  At  what 
height  will  it  be  placed,  at  what  distance  will 
it  be  seen?  " 

Her  questions  about  the  Diana,  and  the 
building  it  was  painted  for,  were  direct  and 
to  the  point.  She  showed  the  closely  trained 
mind  of  a  w^oman  used  to  dealing  with  many 
kinds  of  affairs,  of  giving  instant  and  undivided 
attention  to  the  matter  in  hand.  "  She  was 
all  there,"  as  Patsy  put  it.  There  was  a  great 
lesson  in  the  power  of  concentration  she  showed. 

She  is  a  busy  active  woman;   every  hour,  each 

185 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND   IN  SUN 

quarter  of  an  hour  of  every  day  has  its  appointed 
duty.  We  had  a  sense  that  she  took  them  up 
one  by  one  with  the  same  whole-hearted  earnest- 
ness that  made  every  word  she  said  worthy  to 
be  graven  on  our  memories.  After  she  had 
looked  a  long  time  at  the  Diana,  she  walked 
across  the  studio  to  the  easel  with  the  portrait 
of  the  old  Chieftainess.  J.  told  her  something 
of  her  life  and  work,  and  referred  to  the  story 
that  appeared  a  few  days  before  in  the  Tribuna. 
In  a  recent  speech  before  the  Circolo  Italiano  of 
Boston,  my  mother  had  snapped  out  this  witti- 
cism: 

"  The  American  Eagle  came  out  of  the  egg 
of  Columbus.'* 

The  mot  so  delighted  the  Italians  that  it  was 
quoted  by  the  Italian  press  all  over  the  world. 

"What  a  beautiful  old  age!"  sighed  the 
Queen  Mother,  as  she  looked  at  the  portrait  of 
the  woman  who  has  been  called  in  Boston's 
Little  Italy,  "  La  Nonna  degV  Italiani." 

"  You  have  painted  a  portrait  of  old  age  as  it 
ought  to  be,"  Queen  Margherita  continued; 
with  that  smile  of  hers,  a  little  graver  than  of 
old  but  with  the  same  piercing  sweetness. 

"  Remember  that,"  murmured  Patsy.     "  She 

186 


ROYAL  VISITORS 

hits  the  nail  on  the  head  every  time;  that's  the 
reason  she  has  done  so  much  for  her  generation. 
Come  to  think  of  it,  they  are  two  of  a  kind; 
both  have  served  greatly  and  been  greatly 
rewarded!  '*  He  looked  from  the  face  of  the 
portrait  on  the  easel  to  the  face  of  the  royal 
lady  who  stood  before  it. 

*'  Your  portrait  of  II  Povero  Re/'  said  the 
Queen  Mother  to  J.,  *'  has  changed  color.  I 
am  troubled  about  it,  I  fear  it  may  be  because 
I  always  take  it  with  me  from  Rome  to  Gressoni 
every  year.  I  fear  the  jarring  may  have  hurt 
it." 

It  was  arranged  then  and  there  that  J.  should 
call  upon  the  Countess  Villamarina,  the  Queen 
Mother's  companion,  and  see  what  was  wrong 
with  his  portrait  of  King  Umberto.  We  all 
went  down  to  the  carriage;  the  Queen  Mother 
shook  hands  with  us  all  graciously,  and  promised 
she  would  come  again  to  the  studio  some  day. 

We  watched  the  landau  with  the  sober 
liveries  drive  away.  Across  the  Tiber  the 
regiment  of  T hi; 'opus  was  returning  to  the 
barracks,  after  rifle  practice  at  the  Tor  di 
Quinto.     The   gay   notes   of  the   royal  march 

sounded    joyously;     the   proud   horses   of   the 

187 


SICILY   IN   SHADOW  AND   IN   SUN 

royal  landau  arched  their  beautiful  necks  — 
it  was  as  if  they  recognized  the  music  and  tried 
to  keep  step  to  it. 

Three  days  later,  on  the  twelfth  of  February, 
we  were  waked  at  half  past  seven  in  the 
morning,  with  the  news  that  the  King  would  be 
at  the  studio  in  an  hour.  He  came  in  an  automo- 
bile with  two  aides,  an  admiral  and  a  general. 
They  all  wore  uniform  and  looked  very  smart 
and  well  turned  out.  Agnese  and  I  watched 
them  from  the  terrace  (the  studio  is  opposite 
the  palazzo  where  we  live).  I  was  not  allowed 
to  go  to  the  studio;  Athol  and  J.  decided  it 
would  not  be  suitable,  the  visit  being  so  early 
and  of  so  informal  a  nature;  I  was,  of  course, 
dreadfully  disappointed.  Lorenzo  was  there  to 
open  the  door;  he  apparently  managed  to 
leave  it  ajar,  for  he  gave  me  an  account  of  the 
visit. 

"  His  Majesty  speaks  every  language  as  if  it 
were  his  own  —  they  all  do,  it  is  a  gift  like 
another.  It  was  most  unfortunate  for  me, 
considering  the  Signore  talks  Italian,  that  they 
spoke  in  Ingerlish,  which  resembles  —  with 
respect,    Signora  —  the    chatter    of    monkeys. 

Something  I  understood,  however,  by  observing 

188 


ROYAL   VISITORS 

their  faces.  His  Majesty  pointed  to  the  horses; 
they  interested  him;  has  he  not  the  finest 
horses  in  the  world?  Before  his  Majesty  de- 
parted he  inquired  if  he  should  write  his  name 
in  the  book.  The  Signore  ran  to  turn  over 
a  virgin  page;  this  his  Majesty  would  not 
allow  but  wrote  his  name  with  all  the  others, 
just  where  it  came  naturally,  when  he  could 
have  had  a  whole  page  to  himself.  You  can  see 
for  yourself  what  a  fine  big  signature  he  has; 
he  might  well  be  proud  of  it,  but  he  is  not 
proud  —  nostro  re!  He  handed  the  pen  to  the 
Sign  or  Ammiraglio,  saying  —  that  I  could  under- 
stand for  it  was  in  Italian  —  *  See  that  you  write 
your  name  better  than  I  have  written  mine.' 
On  the  table  lay  the  photographs  the  Signore 
made  at  Messina;  when  his  Majesty  saw  them 
he  turned  back.  They  studied  all  those  ter- 
rible pictures  of  the  ruins  together,  and  they 
talked  again  in  tliat  language  I  do  not  under- 
stand." 

They    stayed    twenty-five    minutes    by    the 

clock   on   the   Castle   Sant'   Angelo,  —  Agnese 

kept  watch  of  the  time;  then  they  all  came  down 

to  the  street.      The  King  shook  hands  with  J., 

wrapped  his  long  military  cloak  about  him  (the 

189 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND  IN  SUN 

air  was  keen),  and  got  into  the  motor.  The 
porter  and  Lorenzo,  standing  very  straight  Hke 
soldiers  on  either  side  of  the  door,  saluted. 
The  porter's  wife,  the  little  stepson  and  the 
new  baby  all  leaned  from  the  window  over  the 
door. 

"  Observe,  observe,  Signora  mia,  his  Majesty 
smiles,  he  is  pleased,"  whispered  Agnese,  all 
in  a  flutter.     "  Ah,  what  a  good  kind  heart!  '* 

The  motor  flashed  past  the  Palazzo  Franken- 
stein, and  Agnese  and  I  came  down  "  to  hear 
all  about  it."  Coffee  for  all  hands  was  demanded 
and  furnished  forthwith.  In  the  kitchen  Lo- 
renzo, Eugenio  and  Agnese  talked  for  an  hour 
about  the  King's  visit.  All  I  could  get  out  of 
J.  was  the  last  precious  sentence  of  the  inter- 
view: 

"  When  I  thanked  him  for  the  honor  of  the 
visit.  King  Victor  said,  *  Not  at  all,  my  mother 
told  me  to  come.'  His  En^ish  is  beautiful, 
just  like  Queen  Margaret's." 


190 


VI 

AT   PALAZZO   MARGHERITA 

"  The  Signorina  with  the  bright  eyes,  who 
lives  in  the  handsome  villino,"  Agnese  began, 
"  asks  if  the  Signora  can  use  her  carriage  today. 
That  fat  beast,  her  coachman,  is  very  avari- 
cious, he  will  expect  a  mancia  of  three  francs  — 
still  if  we  employ  Napoleone,  it  will  cost  more 
—  besides  with  a  private  carriage  se  fa  piii 
figura." 

*'  As  to  making  a  good  appearance,  that's  of 
no  consequence;  the  Signorina's  carriage,  how- 
ever, has  better  springs  than  Napoleone's, 
rubber  tires  as  well.    What  didst  thou  say?  " 

**  As  the  Signora  was  occupied  I  said  yes, 
with  tante  grazie,  and  combined  that  the 
*  milor  '  should  come  at  two  o'clock.  The  after- 
noons are  short;  as  the  mancia  must  be  paid, 
it  is  better  to  have  one's  money's  worth." 
Agnese  wears  thirty-two  flawless  pearls  in  her 
mouth  —  as  she  said  these  things  she  showed 
them  all  to  me  with  the  guileless  smile  of  an 

infant. 

191 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND   IN   SUN 

Could  it  be  by  chance  that  Vera's  carriage 
was  offered  for  this  particular  day?  Impossible! 
Besides,  Agnese  knows  I  never  go  out  till  four. 
I  have  to  believe  in  miracles,  such  miraculous 
things  happen.  Can  it  be  that  Agnese  works 
the  oracle?  Basta!  best  not  lift  the  veil  from 
such  comfortable  mysteries.  We  were  booked 
to  call  on  the  Marchesa  Villamarina  at  half 
past  two  o'clock;  we  had  spoken  to  no  living 
soul  of  this,  and  here  was  a  fat  coachman,  a 
fine  coach  and  pair  coming  to  take  us  in  state  to 
the  palace  of  the  Regina  Madre.  If  our  very 
walls  have  ears,  if  our  correspondence  is 
tampered  with,  the  result  is  fortunate  —  let  us 
accept  the  "  milor  "  the  gods  send  us! 

We  drove  up  sunny  Via  Veneto,  through  the 
Ludovisi  quarter,  past  the  smart  hotels  that 
have  sprung  up  near  the  Palazzo  Margherita  — 
the  Savoy,  Regina,  Palace,  half  a  dozen  more 
named  out  of  compliment  to  the  Queen  Mother. 
If  the  sacrifice  had  to  be  made,  the  beautiful 
Villa  Ludovisi  cut  up  into  house  lots,  trans- 
formed into  the  fashionable  quarter  of  Rome, 
the  great  winter  watering  place,  it's  a  little 
comfort  that  the  best  site  now  serves  for  the 
site  of  Queen  Margherita's  palace. 

192 


AT   PALAZZO   MARGHERITA 

"  Do  you  remember  the  violets  that  used  to 
grow  here?  " 

"  I  can  smell  them  now!  " 

"  It's  hard  to  forgive  that  vandalism,  even 
if  building  lots  were  necessary." 

Other  things  are  necessary;  the  cool  shade  of 
ancient  cedars,  their  resinous  breath  at  hot 
noontide,  the  plashing  of  water  in  moss-grown 
fountains,  the  rustle  of  birds  at  nesting  time, 
the  carpet  of  anemones  beneath  immemorial 
trees,  the  laurel  and  asphodel  that  once  grew 
here  in  the  garden  that  was  Sallust's,  that  has 
been  sacred  ground  to  poet  and  artist  from 
Horace's  time  to  Crawford's. 

Palazzo  Margherita  faces  Via  Veneto  with 
its  smug  hotels;  behind  the  palace  lie  a  few 
roods  of  ground,  a  shrunken  splendor,  the  last 
vestige  of  the  noble  Villa  Ludovisi.  Here  are 
shadowy  walks  between  gnarled  ilex  trees, 
and  a  few  old  statues,  the  last  of  a  great  com- 
pany. A  high  wall  shuts  off  the  Queen's  garden 
from  the  Via  Sallustiana,  on  the  left;  at  the 
back  on  the  Via  Boncompagni,  the  wall  is  sur- 
mounted by  a  balustrade  with  antique  amphorae 
etched  with  a  fine  network  of  black  and  yellow 

stains.    Perhaps  they  once  held  the  wine  that 

193 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND  IN  SUN 

served  at  Sallust's  banquets  —  it  was  of  the 
best,  Falernian  perhaps. 

*'  A  pleasant  drive  to  you!  "  Herr  Schmidt, 
at  the  door  of  his  hotel,  bowed  and  smiled.  A 
gong  clanged  behind  him;  a  crowd  of  porters 
in  green  baize  apron  and  pages  in  buttons 
rushed  from  within,  as  the  big  hotel  omnibus, 
covered  with  travelers'  luggage,  crowded  with 
tourists,  drew  up  at  the  entrance. 

"  Isn't  he  a  type  with  his  automobile,  his 
big  wife  wearing  the  old  Orsini  diamonds?  "  I 
murmured. 

The  Roman  hotel-keeper  today  is  a  far  more 
important  personage  than  the  poet  and  artist  he 
has  ousted  from  their  garden  of  delight,  the 
lovely  Villa  Ludovisi.  If  he  were  really  a 
Roman,  it  wouldn't  matter  so  much;  but  nine 
times  out  of  ten  he  is  a  German  or  a  Swiss. 
Herr  Schmidt  is  a  very  rich  man  and  much 
considered,  while  Enrico,  the  painter,  who 
used  to  spend  long  delicious  days  sketching  in 
the  Villa  —  Enrico,  who  loves  and  paints  the 
Campagna  Romana  as  it  has  never  been  painted 
before  —  Enrico's  coat  is  threadbare  as  Mar- 
tial's only  toga. 

"  Are  you  asleep?  " 

194 


AT  PALAZZO   MARGHERITA 

"  No,  only  dreaming." 

*'  Wake  up,  we're  there." 

We  were  expected;  the  sentries  at  the  gate 
allowed  the  fat  coachman  to  drive  the  "  milor  " 
into  the  courtyard. 

"  The  last  time  we  were  here  together  was  at 
a  dinner  of  Mrs.  Draper's,"  J.  reminded  me. 
When  General  Draper  was  American  ambassa- 
dor he  lived  here,  as  did  his  predecessor,  Mr. 
Wayne  MacVeagh;  in  those  days  it  was  called 
the  Palazzo  Piombino.  After  the  death  of 
King  Umberto  the  palace  became  the  Roman 
residence  of  the  Queen  Mother. 

A  picturesque  person  in  plush  breeches, 
wearing  a  silver  chain  of  office,  received  and 
showed  us  up  the  grand  staircase.  No  mean 
economy  of  space  or  height  here,  or  in  the  long 
corridor  with  the  marble  doorways;  our  palace 
builders  at  home  must  study  Roman  interiors 
as  well  as  Italian  gardens. 

"  Don't  you  remember  the  MacVeaghs'  ball 
and  Queen  Margherita  walking  through  this 
corridor  with  the  Ambassador .^^  "  J.  asked. 

"  Of  course;    she  wore  a  blue  brocade  dress 

and  her  incomparable  pearls;   it  all  comes  back 

to  me.     King  Umberto  was   in   uniform;    he 

195 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND   IN   SUN 

carried  a  helmet  with  white  plume  mider  his 
arm.  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Charles  Francis  Adams 
were  here.  Do  you  remember  the  Austrian 
diplomat's  fascinating  court  dress  .'^  And  that 
Russian  military  attache  in  Cossack  uniform 
with  a  black  patch  over  one  eye.^ ; ' 

"  Yes,  what  a  hero  you  thought  him  till  I 
told  you  his  poor  eye  had  been  knocked  out 
by  a  careless  woman's  umbrella." 

The  Marchesa  Villamarina  received  us  in  the 
room  where  Mrs.  MacVeagh  used  to  give  tea. 
As  we  sat  talking^  we  heard  a  merry  little 
scream  of  dismay;  the  Marchesa,  excusing 
herself,  hurried  to  the  next  room.  Then  we 
heard  a  laugh  like  a  silver  chime. 

"  It's  her  voice,"  I  whispered. 

In  a  moment  the  Marchesa  returned,  smiling 
and  merry. 

Queen  Margherita,  her  eyes  bright  with 
laughter,  received  us  in  her  library.  The 
Queen's  dress  was  like  the  plumage  of  a  silver 
pheasant;  dress  is  a  fine  art  with  her.  You 
never  know  what  she  has  on,  but  you  always 
know  it  is  the  perfect  thing  for  the  hour.  The 
library  is  an  immense  apartment,  even  for 
Rome,  full  of  color  and  atmosphere.     It  suits 

196 


AT  PALAZZO   MARGHERITA 

her  as  the  background  in  a  Velasquez  portrait 
suits  the  central  figure.  The  highest  point  of 
light  was  a  blaze  of  yellow  azaleas  on  the 
mantel.  There  was  no  senseless  bric-a-brac, 
but  every  article  of  furniture  was  a  gem.  One 
who  reads  the  character  of  a  person  from  the 
room  he  or  she  lives  in,  would  guess  that  this 
was  the  home  of  a  woman  of  taste  and  of  action ; 
it  was  comfortable  rather  than  luxurious;  there 
was  nothing  of  the  "  dreadful  too  much."  On 
the  walls  hung  a  few  pictures,  among  them 
J.'s  Dante  in  Exile.  On  the  writing  table  stood 
his  portrait  of  King  Umberto.  J.  saw  in  a 
moment  what  had  happened  to  it.  The  portrait 
is  a  silver-point  drawing.  When  these  are  first 
made  their  color  is  very  like  a  pencil  drawing; 
with  time  the  silver  becomes  oxidized,  and 
turns  darker,  the  tone  improving  every  year 
till  it  becomes  a.  rich  soft  tarnished  color. 
While  J.  was  explaining  this  to  Queen  Mar- 
gherita,  the  Marchesa  told  me  what  had  been 
the  matter. 

"  In  writing  her  name  upon  the  photograph 
her  Majesty  designed  to  give  you,  she  had  the 
misfortune  to  upset  the  Ink." 

'*  She  too?    Is  she  so  human?" 
197 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND  IN  SUN 

"  It  is  because  her  Majesty  is  so  human," 
said  the  Marchesa,  "  that  one  has  that  adoration 
for  her." 


**I've  had  a  letter  from  Belknap,"  said  J. 
a  few  days  after  this,  "  asking  me  to  go  back 
to  Messina  with  him." 

*'  You're  not  going?  "  I  cried. 

"  Of  course  he  is,"  said  Vera.  She  was 
playing  ball  with  Patsy  on  the  terrace. 

*'  I  can't  bear  it;  besides  you  must  finish 
your  Pan." 

"  Your  father  would  have  gone." 

There  was  nothing  for  me  to  say  to  that. 

"  Take  me  with  you,"  said  Patsy. 

"  And  me!  "  cried  Vera,  all  on  fire. 

"I  can't  take  you;  but  there's  nothing  to 
prevent  your  all  making  a  trip  to  Sicily.  You 
have  always  wanted  to  —  "  he  looked  at  me. 
"  This  is  your  chance,  a  little  later  though  — 
it's  such  a  cold  season." 

"  How  can  he  be  so  keen  about  getting  back 
to  that  awful  place?  "  I  exclaimed. 

"  It's  because  there  is  so  much  more  work 
to  do  there  than  there  ever  was  in  the  world 

198 


AT  PALAZZO   MARGHERITA 

before,"  said  Vera.  "  Every  one  who  has  been 
down  feels  the  same  way." 

"  You  have  said  it!  "  This  from  Patsy,  the 
golden  butterfly.  "  A  man's  happiest  when 
he's  working  to  the  limit,  when  there's  not  one 
minute  of  time  left  in  the  day  to  get  a  grouch 
on!" 

"  What  have  you  to  say  about  it.'*  "  said 
Vera,  looking  at  J. 

**  I  would  rather  have  had  this  letter  than  a 
big  commission;  we  may  start  any  day.  You 
will  see  the  Q.'s.'^  Bonanno  is  sure  to  ask  news 
of  them,"  J.  went  on. 

*'  Let's  go  now,"  said  Vera.  "  The  Q.'s  are 
far  the  most  interesting  of  your  profughi." 

There  was  still  time  before  sunset,  so  Vera  and 
I,  escorted  by  Patsy,  started  to  walk  to  the 
Q.'s.  We  crossed  the  Tiber,  pausing  on  the 
bridge  to  watch  the  soldiers,  maneuvering  the 
big  awkward  pontoons  on  the  river  above,  the 
part  that  makes  the  curve  of  the  S.  It  was  a 
gorgeous  afternoon;  the  air  was  golden,  spark- 
ling, full  of  life. 

" '  How  tenderly  the  haughty  day  fills  his  blue  urn  with 

fire!*" 

199 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND   IN  SUN 

Patsy  quoted.  '*  I  bet  that  was  written  in 
Rome!  " 

On  the  Lungo  Tevere  a  young  officer  passed, 
riding  a  spirited  bay. 

*'  Look  out!  "  cried  Patsy  warningly.  Vera, 
startled  by  the  prancing  horse,  sprang  aside; 
the  officer  saluted. 

"  It*s  Philippus!  "  I  cried,  as  the  bay  danced 
along  sidewise  like  a  skittish  crab. 

"  Whoever  he  is,  he  ought  to  give  that  beast 
more  work  and  less  corn!"  Patsy  flicked 
the  dust  the  bay  had  kicked  up  from  his 
sleeve. 

*'  No  matter  about  the  dust;  he's  alive!  We 
shall  all  be  dust  soon  enough." 

Patsy  left  us  at  the  gate. 

Although  there  was  a  nip  in  the  air,  we  found 
old  Count  Q.  in  the  garden. 

*'  Babbo  sits  out  whenever  he  can,"  said 
Rosalia,  oldest  of  the  Count's  seven  remaining 
daughters.  "  Since  the  earthquake  he  knows  no 
peace  within." 

When  I  told  them  J.  was  going  to  Messina, 
the  Count's  drawn  face  changed;  he  began  to 
sob  pitifully.     Rosalia,   a  faded  beauty  with 

tragic  eyes  (she  had  lain  beneath  the  ruins  of 

200 


AT  PALAZZO   ]\IARGriERITA 

their  house  at  Messina  for  twenty-four  hours), 
put  a  finger  to  her  lips. 

"  Speak  not  of  Sicily,  I  pray!  "  she  whis- 
pered, "  though  in  truth  he  thinks  of  nothing 
else.    He  dreams  each  night  the  house  is  falling." 

The  Count  is  seventy  years  old,  and  para- 
lyzed. His  house  was  destroyed  with  his 
oldest  son's  next  door.  For  days  he  heard  his 
son's  voice  and  his  little  grandchildren's  calling 
for  help.  They  were  buried  so  deep  that  when 
help  came  it  was  too  late.  One  of  the  grand- 
daughters was  the  girl  of  the  emerald  scarab 
ring  Bonanno  told  us  of. 

*'  How  goes  on  the  sewing.''  "  I  asked  Rosalia. 

"  Famously;  a  thousand  thanks  for  the 
machine.  All  the  cotton  is  made  up.  The 
parents  now  sleep  between  sheets;  we  others 
shall  have  that  luxury  soon." 

The  Countess  and  her  daughters  had  worked 
early  and  late,  making  bed  linen  and  under- 
clothes of  the  cotton  cloth  sent  by  our  com- 
mittee. I  asked  Rosalia  if  there  was  any  mes- 
sage for  Bonanno. 

"  Tell  the  Signor  Avvocato  that  we  are  more 
fortunate    than    many  —  God    has    sent     us 

friends,"  she  said.     "  Would  the  Signore  have 

201 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND    IN   SUN 

the  infinite  kindness  to  carry  him  a  little  note- 
paper,  of  the  most  miserable  kind,  a  few  en- 
velopes? His  last  letter  was  written  on  a  bit 
of  paper  torn  from  the  wall.  I  am  sure  he  has 
done  everything  —  but  if  he  would  write  to 
mamina  and  set  her  mind  at  rest  —  tell  her 
the  graves  are  marked,  that  she  will  know  in 
which  each  of  them  lies  —  Nonna,  Maddelena, 
Nina?  " 

"  All  this  shall  be  related  to  the  avvocato 
without  fail.  Courage,  remember,  look  forward, 
not  back!  " 

"  Altro!  It  is  what  I  most  desire."  Rosalia 
fought  back  the  tears.  We  left  her,  smiling 
bravely,  at  her  post  beside  the  poor  old  para- 
lyzed father. 

"  Did  you  ever  see  a  handsomer  family?  " 
I  asked  Vera  as  we  walked  away.  "  Rosalia 
is  still  fine,  the  next  four  are  pretty  as  pinks, 
the  two  youngest  real  beauties.  Which  is  that 
at  the  window?    I  can't  tell  them  apart." 

"  Not  since  they've  begun  to  smile?  That's 
the  youngest,  Beatrice  —  watch  for  the  dimple 
when  she  laughs." 

'*  Wherever  did  she  get  that  smart  toggery?  " 

"  Some  of  you  soft-hearted  Americans!     She 

202 


AT  PALAZZO   MARGHERITA 

was  lovely  in  her  big  black  hat,  the  latest 
fashion.  Can  any  of  them  do  anything  to  earn 
money?  " 

"  They  could  not  earn  a  centesimo  among 
them  all.  The  Count  owned  a  lot  of  valuable 
real  estate  in  Messina;  they  lived  on  their 
rents.  In  the  end  something  surely  will  be 
saved;  you  can't  wipe  out  real  estate.  Such 
pretty  girls  are  sure  to  marry." 

"  If  you  had  only  seen  it  all,  you  would 
understand  —  it*s  chaos !  It  will  take  years, 
a  generation  perhaps,  before  things  can  be 
straightened  out.  Meanwhile  '  it  is  not  always 
May.'  " 

"  But  Beatrice  and  the  other  little  one  — 
They  are  lovely!  " 

"  Beauty  is  a  poor  dote  —  young  kittens 
soon  make  old  cats!  No,  cara  mia,  they  have 
no  chance.  You  Americans  can't  understand: 
you  are  still  primitive.  The  American  carries 
off  his  wife  as  the  Indian  his  squaw.  You  are 
at  the  natural  selection  stage." 

"  Well,  we  have  been  —  " 

"  The  man  assumes  the  responsibility  of  the 

woman's  support?  " 

"As  a  rule!" 

203 


SICILY  IN   SHADOW  AND   IN   SUN 

"  It's  bad  form  for  a  man  to  ask  a  dowry  or 
allowance  from  the  girl's  father?  " 

"  The  unpardonable  sin." 

"  I  know;  my  brother  married  an  American. 
Her  father  gave  her  an  allowance,  but  when  she 
died  he  never  offered  to  pay  her  funeral  ex- 
penses —  his  own  child.  We  thought  this  un- 
feeling —  dreadful !  Americans  tell  me  it  prob- 
ably never  occurred  to  him." 

"  We  think  it  is  far  better  for  young  people 
to  make  their  own  way,"  I  maintained. 

"  The  parents  who  bring  a  child  into  the 
world,"  Vera  argued,  "  especially  a  female 
child,  are  responsible  for  her  support.  When 
she  marries,  they  are  bound  to  settle  the  largest 
sum  upon  her  they  can  afford.  They  must 
make  a  sacrifice  for  their  child." 

There  is  a  sort  of  finality  about  a  disaster 
like  the  Q.'s  that  we  Americans  can  hardly 
conceive  of;  with  us  failure  so  often  spells 
success.  If  a  young  man's  father  is  ruined,  we 
say  of  him  (we  are  beginning  to  say  it  of  his 
sister)  —  "  This  gives  him  a  chance  to  show  the 
stuff  he's  made  of!  " 

After  leaving  Vera  I  went  back  to  the  terrace, 
to  watch  the  sun   set  over  Mons  Vaticanus. 

204 


AT  PALAZZO   MARGHERITA 

Ignazio  was  there  before  me,  grafting  a  new 
American  Beauty  rose  on  the  stem  of  the  big 
Banksia. 

"  You  have  three  sisters,  Ignazio,"  I  began. 
*'  You  have  told  me  your  father  is  dead.  " 

"  And  in  Paradise,  I  trust,  this  long  time;  I 
have  not  grudged  masses  for  his  soul." 

*'  A  good  son!  How  did  he  leave  his  money.'' 
Did  your  sisters  have  dowries.^  " 

"He  divided  his  money  into  two  parts  — 
my  mother  already  being  in  glory.  A  little 
more  than  half  he  left  to  me,  the  only  son. 
That  was  right,  for  so  the  greater  part  of  the 
property  remains  in  the  casa  paterna.  The 
other  half  he  divided  between  my  three  sisters. 
The  oldest  went  into  a  convent;  it  was  her 
wish,  you  understand.  Her  share  was  paid  just 
as  if  she  had  married.  The  second  espoused  a 
vignerolo  and  invested  her  money  in  a  new  vine- 
yard; they  have  prospered.  The  little  one, 
Teresina,  would  go  to  the  convent,  where  was 
Maria,  the  oldest.  But  that  one,  she  is  intelli- 
gent, fine,  very  fine,  sent  Teresina  a  letter  — 
God  knows  how  she  managed  it  —  telling  her 
on  her  life  not  to  come  to  that  convent.    Soon 

Teresina  found  a  husband,  a  baker;    he  has  a 

205 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND  IN  SUN 

good  business.  Teresina  has  given  him  plenty 
of  mouths  to  feed,  three  boys  and  five  girls. 
That  is  better  than  a  convent.  Yes,  I  beheve 
in  the  good  God,  Signora;  I  am  not  a  free 
mason,  nor  an  anarchist,  but  I  think  a  girl 
can  serve  Him  as  well  in  the  world,  and  far 
more  pleasantly,  than  in  a  convent." 

"  You  have  a  daughter.?  " 

*'  With  respect,  I  have  four.  No  convent  for 
them;  it  is  worse  than  a  prison !  If  my  daughter 
went  to  a  prison  I  might  see  her  again;  but 
to  a  convent,  never  —  it  is  finished." 

**  You  will  give  your  girls  a  good  dowry." 

"  I  am  a  poor  man,  times  are  hard,  that 
fellow  Cesare,  my  assistant,  is  a  thief  —  the 
Signora  knows  it  —  but  something  I  shall  do 
for  them." 

Poor  Rosalia,  poor  Beatrice!  Who  would 
*'  do  "  for  them?  As  Vera  said,  the  Q.'s  were 
my  most  interesting  profughi.  That  good 
Samaritan,  Miss  Jane  Sedgwick,  found  them 
soon  after  they  came  to  Rome.  When  she  first 
saw  them,  they  were  living  in  one  dreadful 
dark  room;  the  whole  family  sat  like  statues 
of   stone    around    that    dismal    hole;     the    old 

Count's  dreadful  sobbing  was  the  only  sign  of 

206 


AT  PALAZZO   MARGHERITA 

life  they  gave.  A  pitiful  smile  dawned  on  the 
mother's  face  when  ^liss  Sedgwick  drew  out  a 
fifty-franc  bill.  Here  was  a  visitor  who  did 
more  than  ask  questions  and  write  down 
answers,  a  committee  that  committed  itself  — 
recklessly  perhaps,  but  effectively  —  that 
justified  itself  not  by  its  statistics  but  by  its 
work. 

On  the  twentieth  of  February,  J.  departed 
with  his  chief.  Captain  Belknap,  for  Messina, 
and  I  was  left  to  devote  myself  to  my  profughi. 
Before  he  started  we  went  to  take  leave  of  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Griscom;  happily  we  found  them  at 
home. 

"  Don't  you  need  a  suit  of  clothes?  "  her 
Excellency  asked  J.  as  she  gave  him  a  cup  of 
tea. 

"  I  need  several;  most  of  mine  have  been  given 
away."  He  glanced  at  me.  "  I  must  make  out 
with  what's  left  though  —  I  don't  look  too 
shabby  for  Messina.^  " 

"The  idea!  It's  only  that  —  I  have  a 
tailor  —  he  makes  really  very  well  —  I  thought 
you  might  order  a  suit  —  " 

"  Do,  I  beg!  "  interrupted  the  Ambassador. 

"  That  Sicilian  tailor    has  made  me  six  suits 

207 


SICILY  IN   SHADOW  AND   IN  SUN 

already  —  I  can't  use  any  more  —  he  makes 
too  well  —  they'll  never  wear  out!  " 

"  How  is  your  plumber  doing?  "  asked  Mrs. 
Griscom. 

"  Not  so  well  as  your  tailor.  He  can't  follow 
his  trade  in  Rome;  if  I  could  only  send  him  to 
America,  where  plumbing  is  a  fine  art  and  takes 
the  place  of  bric-a-brac!  " 

"  And  the  new  baby.'^  "  How  could  she 
remember  that  Lucia  Calabresi  had  a  baby! 

Though  aching  to  go  to  Sicily,  Patsy  re- 
mained in  Rome  to  help  me  with  my  profughi. 
I  had  some  of  my  "  cases  "  from  Countess 
Pasolini,  some  from  Miss  Noble  Jones  (her 
brother,  our  old  friend  Wallace  Jones,  was  once 
Consul  at  Messina),  others  I  read  of  in  the 
papers.  Patsy  was  studying  counterpoint  with 
a  professor  of  music,  Dante  with  a  professor 
of  literature,  Arabic  with  a  professor  of  Oriental 
languages  —  all  late  of  the  University  of  Mes- 
sina. 

"  The  professors  and  schoolmasters  are  having 

the  roughest  time  of  all,"  he  declared.     "  The 

devil   and   the   lawyers   look   after  their   own. 

The  avvocatos  and  the  medicos  all  over  Italy 

have    organized    to    help  their   fellows  —  but 

208 


AT   PALAZZO   MARGHERITA 

these  poor  teachers!  "     He  had  just  ferreted 

out  a  new  professor  and  family.    "  They  receive 

one  franc  and  a  half  a  day  from  the  general 

committee  —  that  keeps  the  breath  of  life  in 

'em  —  but  the  father,  the  only  one  capable  of 

earning  a  soldo^  has  to  stand  in  line  and  wait 

for  hours  every  day  to  draw  the  mone3^     If 

you  could  have  seen  their  room!     I  spent  those 

two  hundred  francs  on  chairs,  beds  and  blankets. 

*  Who  gives  promptly,  gives  twice,'  Mr.  Par- 

rish  says.     Isn't  he  a  corker?     Don't  let  'em 

get    discouraged  —  that's    his    argument;     it's 

the  delay  that  breaks  their  hearts.     Those  who 

have  the  stuff  left  in  them  ought  to  be  kept 

hard  at  work,  nose  to  the  grindstone." 

Mrs.    Griscom's    Ladies'    Auxiliary    was    the 

best  committee  I  ever  served  on  because  it  had 

the  least  red  tape.     Like  the  old  vigilantes  of 

the  West,  it  was  created  for  an  urgent  need, 

lived  a  short  life  with  the  maximum  of    work, 

the  minimum  of  talk.    My  colleagues,  Mesdames 

Samuel  Abbott,  Winthrop  Chanler,  and  Nelson 

Gay,    worked    each    according   to   their   lights, 

meeting  with  the  Ambassadress  from  time  to 

time  to  compare  notes  and  vote  supplies.    The 

work    was    quietly    done,    with    little    fuss    or 

209 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND   IN  SUN 

feathers.  Every  soldo  was  well  spent,  and  passed 
direct  from  the  treasury  to  the  sufferer.  Jane 
Sedgwick  and  Luella  Serrao  were  my  right  and 
left  hand  (Luella  is  the  widow  of  our  dear 
Teodoro,  for  years  the  lawyer  of  the  Embassy, 
always  the  friend  of  the  Americans  in  Rome), 
Patsy  was  my  flying  Mercury,  Elinor  Diederich 
took  the  Q.'s  and  other  profughi  under  her 
wing. 

Luella  had  a  patriarchal  family  from  Bagnara 
in  her  care,  an  old  man  and  woman  with  a 
screed  of  children  and  grandchildren.  She  had 
been  telling  me  about  them  one  afternoon  as 
we  were  walking  together;  just  as  we  turned 
out  of  the  Piazza  Venezia,  into  the  Via  Nazi- 
onale,  a  clear  voice  hailed  us : 

"  Mia  grande  Signora ! "  Luella,  delicate  as 
a  windflower,  paused.  A  great  gaunt  woman, 
wearing  a  black  kerchief  over  her  head  and  a 
quaint  short  skirt,  stood  before  us.  She  touched 
her  fingers  to  her  lips;  then  with  the  graceful 
Oriental  gesture  stooped  and  touched  the  hem  of 
the  "grande  Signora's"  garment,  and  passed  on. 

"  That    was    Sora    Clara     from    Bagnara," 

Luella  explained.     "  She  was  discharged   from 

the  hospital  yesterday." 

210 


AT  PALAZZO   MARGHERITA 

We  were  now  passing  the  fine  old  palace  of 
the  Preffetura.  "  How  well  I  remember  coming 
to  see  you  there!  "  I  said,  looking  at  the  stern 
fa9ade,  "  when  the  Prefect  had  that  stroke  of 
apoplexy.  It  was  said  the  nursing  of  his 
American  daughter-in-law  saved  his  life." 

"Strange  you  should  speak  of  that!"  said 
Luella.  "  Pietro  Ceccatiello,  the  young  clerk 
who  helped  me  so  much,  has  been  in  my  mind 
all  day.  After  we  left  the  Preffetura,  Pietro 
went  to  Messina  and  married.  He  had  a  good 
position  as  an  ivipiegato.  We  have  all  been 
anxious  about  him  since  the  earthquake.  The 
other  day  my  brother-in-law,  walking  through 
a  hospital  at  Naples,  heard  some  one  call, 
*  Signor  Rudolfo !  '  He  went  up  to  the  bed 
the  voice  came  from,  but  the  patient  was  so 
bandaged  he  did  not  recognize  him.  *  Don't 
you  know  me?  '  the  man  cried.  '  I  am  Cec- 
catiello.' '  W^e  feared  thou  wast  killed,'  said 
Rudolfo,  and  put  out  his  hand  to  take  Pietro's. 
The  poor  fellow  held  up  two  maimed  swathed 
stumps.  Then  he  told  his  story:  after  the 
earthquake  Pietro  found  that  he,  his  wife,  and 
child,  though  little  hurt,  were  buried,  sotto  le 

macerie,  three  metres  deep.     They  could  not 

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SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND   IN   SUN 

make  themselves  heard;  they  could  find  noth- 
ing to  dig  with.  With  his  two  naked  hands 
Pietro  dug  his  way  out  of  that  living  tomb, 
saved  his  wife  and  child.  His  fingers  were 
literally  worn  away.  The  hands  had  to  be 
amputated  at  the  wrist,  with  one  foot  that  had 
been  crushed." 

We  sent  Pietro  three  hundred  francs  of 
American  money.  The  messenger  who  took  it 
to  him  warned  us  not  to  give  money  again  to 
those  in  hospitals,  but  to  wait  rather  till  they 
were  discharged. 

"  The  miserable  one  in  the  next  bed  to 
Pietro,  who  was  quite  as  badly  hurt,  wept  because 
I  had  no  money  for  him  —  invidia  (envy)!" 

I  told  Vera  and  Patsy  Pietro's  story  that 
evening.  Vera's  jewelled  hands  flashed  as  she 
hid  her  face  in  them. 

''  I  can't  bear  it!  "  she  cried,  as  if  she  felt  the 
loss  of  Pietro's  hands  in  hers.  "  What  was  that 
you  said  to  Rosalia  —  '  look  forward,  not  back '? 
Remember  the  English  verse  Athol  taught  us." 

"  The  inner  side  of  every  cloud 
Is  always  bright  and  shining, 
And  so  I  turn  my  clouds  about 
And  always  wear  them  inside  out, 
To  show  their  silver  lining!  " 
212 


AT  PALAZZO   MARGHERITA 

"  Right!  "  cried  Patsy,  "  look  for  the  silver 
lining.  If  ever  cloud  had  one,  it's  this  that 
darkens  Italy!  '* 

Let  us  turn  the  cloud  about,  dwell  no  more 
on  Italy's  anguish  unparalleled,  but  on  the 
silver  lining,  the  love  and  help  her  sisters 
lavished  upon  her.  If  we  dwell  most  upon 
our  country's  share,  it  is  because  we  know  more 
of  it  —  not  to  set  it  above  the  others. 

The  minutes  of  the  meeting  of  the  Ladies' 
Auxiliary  (I  was  the  Secretary),  held  January 
9th,  contain  this  entry: 

"  Mr.  Parrish  gave  an  account  of  an  inter- 
view with  Signor  Nathan,  the  Syndic  of  Rome, 
who  expressed  the  opinion  that  if  the  American 
Committee  had  a  considerable  sum  of  money 
at  its  disposal,  it  could  best  be  invested  in 
buying  lumber  and  building  houses  in  the 
devastated  districts." 

That  was  the  seed,  —  a  good  seed  that  bore 

fruit.     By  far  the  most  important  work  done 

by  America  for  the   earthquake  sufferers  was 

the  building  of  these  houses  in  the  devastated 

districts.     In  this    enterprise  our  Ambassador 

proved  worthy  of  his  high  office,  of  the  great 

trust  imposed  upon  him;  from  the  moment  the 

213 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND   IN   SUN 

plan  was  decided  upon,  he  devoted  every  ounce 
of  energy  to  furthering  it  both  at  home  and 
abroad.  The  details  of  his  work  do  not  prop- 
erly belong  to  those  outside  the  magic  circle 
of  diplomacy;  his  was  a  labor  of  Hercules  — 
only  the  old  Greek  hero  had  seven  labors,  and 
the  young  American,  seventy  and  seven.  He 
was  fortunate  in  having  Captain  Belknap  to 
carry  out  the  practical  part  of  the  work. 

It  was  to  help  Belknap  that  J.  left  his  studio, 
the  terrace  where  the  tromboni  were  blowing 
their  golden  trumpets,  and  the  bees  from  the 
priest's  hive  hummed  in  and  out  the  wall  flowers. 
Patsy  and  I  stayed  in  Rome,  worked  for  our 
profughi,  played  with  our  flowers.  The  Anda- 
lusian  carnations,  sent  from  Spain  by  our  friend 
Don  Jaime,  were  an  intense  interest.  It  seemed 
at  first  they  would  die;  with  the  first  touch  of 
the  March  sun,  they  took  heart  of  grace  and 
decided  that  life  was  worth  while,  even  for  an 
Andalusian  transplanted  to  Rome. 

Ignazio's  bills  had  been  growing  heavier  and 
heavier  every  month;  he  had  not  grafted  the 
promised  number  of  innesti  on  the  roses;  there 
were  other  small  grievances.     In  a  moment  of 

exasperation  I  resolved  to  put  an  end  to  these 

214 


AT  PALAZZO   MARGHERITA 

things.  I  surprised  him  early  one  morning  as 
he  was  changing  the  earth  of  the  big  azalea; 
he  was  on  his  knees,  patting  the  rich  brown 
loam  about  the  roots. 

"  Ignazio,"  I  began  firmly,  "  the  time  has 
come  when  we  must  part." 

He  shook  the  earth  from  his  slim  fingers, 
sprang  to  his  feet,  agile  as  a  faun,  and  fixed 
me  with  his  clear  hazel  eyes. 

*' JS  vero?  This  is  a  fount  of  sorrow  to  me! 
Where  might  your  Excellency  be  going. '^  " 

**  It  is  not  I  who  am  going." 

"  Si  capisce!  The  Signora  will  soon  join 
the  Signore?  Let  her  be  at  ease;  everything 
will  go  on  as  if  she  were  at  home.  Behold  the 
primole  the  Signora  has  asked  for  these  many 
years!  They  are  not  a  garden  flower,  therefore 
it  was  extraordinarily  difficult  to  obtain  these 
wild  things.  With  infinite  labor  I  got  them 
from  the  guardiano  of  the  Villa  Caprarola, 
where  they  cover  the  hills  like  a  weed." 

This  was  my  last  attempt  to  part  with 
Ignazio;  whatever  else  is  fleeting,  he  is  per- 
manent. To  cover  my  defeat,  I  changed  the 
subject  and  asked  him  what  he  knew  of  the 

Sicilians. 

215 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND   IN  SUN 

"  I  am  from  upper  Italy,  a  Sienese;  I  have 
naught  to  do  with  those  of  the  south;  I  do 
not  say  there  are  not  brave  people  among  them 
but  they  have  too  hot  blood.  They  all  go 
armed  too,  even  the  women;  I  have  proof  of 
it  —  "  he  glanced  half  consciously  at  a  scar  on 
his  wrist;  when  he  spoke  again  an  odd  note 
of  resentment  had  crept  into  his  voice,  a  shadow 
into  eyes  clear  as  a  forest  brook.  "  We  who 
have  nothing  but  our  two  arms  —  or  at  best 
a  little  gingillo  of  a  knife,  so  long,  what  can 
we  do  against  them.^  Nothing!  It  is  best  to 
keep  away  from  them,  to  have  nothing  to  do 
with  them  —  enough,  I  have  said  it!  " 


216 


VII 

BUILDING  THE  NEW  MESSINA 

"  Un  soldo!  Eh!  Signore,  un  soldo!  "  The 
brown  boy,  naked  as  the  day  he  was  born, 
threw  up  his  right  arm  with  that  graceful 
gesture  of  asking  that  makes  it  hard  to  deny 
the  Neapolitan  begger  anything. 

'*  Give  me  the  valise,  Signore;  there  is  no 
danger  of  its  getting  wet,"  said  Antonio,  the 
boatman,  an  old  friend;  J.  knew  him  by  his 
gold  earrings  and  the  red  scar  on  his  cheek. 

"  Un  soldo!  "  the  boy  implored.  J.  tossed  a 
coin  into  the  water;  the  boy  dived  for  the 
money,  caught  it  before  it  was  ten  feet  below 
the  surface,  and  came  up  snorting  like  a  young 
grampus,  the  soldo  in  his  cheek,  his  arm  raised 
in  that  irresistible  gesture. 

"  Basta!  "  cried  Antonio,  bending  to  his  oars. 

There  is  war  to  the  knife  between  him  and  the 

diver,  a  share  of   whose  profits  he  demands. 

'*  To  the  American  war-ship,  Signore.''     Off  to 

Messina  again .^    I  would  not  go  in  your  place!  '* 

217 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND  IN  SUN 

The  boat  shot  out  from  the  Immacolatella 
and  past  the  small  steamer  bound  for  Ischia, 
while  J.  counted  his  packages.  They  were 
pursued  by  a  boatload  of  musicians,  singing 
"  Santa  Lucia."  From  the  shore  came  a  whiff 
of  fried  fish,  just  enough  to  whet  the  appetite. 

"  The  *  Celtic  '  is  close  in  shore,  I  believe,'* 
said  J.,  "  I  suppose  I  must  give  you  a  franc." 

"  Four  miles  at  least,  Signore."  Antonio 
paused  in  his  rowing;  "  To  another  it  would  be 
five  francs,  but  we  are  old  acquaintances,  let 
us  say  three." 

In  six  minutes  they  were  alongside  the 
*'  Celtic,"  anchored  less  than  half  a  mile  away. 
It  was  already  seven  o'clock  when  J.  came  on 
board.  He  was  received  by  his  chief.  Captain 
Belknap,  then  turned  over  to  the  care  of  the 
ship's  doctor  and  made  welcome  by  the  officers 
at  dinner  in  the  ward-room.  Later  he  was 
introduced  to  Captain  Huse,  in  command  of 
the  "  Celtic,"  then  took  a  few  turns  up  and 
down  the  deck,  just  to  make  sure  that  Vesuvius 
was  in  his  old  place  across  the  bay,  that  the 
sleeping  Queen  Capri  still  slept  on  the  face  of 
the  waters;  by  four  bells  he  was  ready  to  sleep. 

The  doctor  showed  him  where  he  was  to  bunk. 

218 


BUILDING  THE   NEW  MESSINA 

There  were  already  four  of  them  in  the  "  sick 
bay,"  up  among  the  Jackies;  not  that  any  of 
them  were  ill,  but  because  it  was  the  only 
corner  on  the  ship  where  there  was  a  place  to 
stow  them.  Belknap  had  written  Captain  Huse 
that  he  and  his  man  were  quite  prepared  to 
rough  it  and,  if  need  be,  could  sleep  between 
decks.  The  "  Celtic  "  is  a  U.  S.  supply  ship 
carrying  about  one  hundred  and  forty  men, 
and  bow  and  stern  guns;  her  officers'  quarters 
are  small,  but  somehow  Captain  Huse  made 
Belknap's  party  very  comfortable.  J.'s  bunk 
was  in  the  sick  bay,  along  with  Lieutenant 
Allen  Buchanan,  Ensigns  Wilcox  and  Spofford 
and  Dr.  Martin  Donelson,  all  of  cur  navy. 
The  rest  of  the  party  (thirty-four  petty  officers 
and  enlisted  men  from  the  U.  S.  S.  "  Scor- 
pion ")  were  stowed  in  different  parts  of  the 
ship;  the  chart-house  was  assigned  to  Bel- 
knap. 

They  all  slept  well.  The  next  morning,  as 
there  was  only  space  for  one  to  dress  at  a  time, 
J.,  the  last  comer,  lay  in  his  berth  waiting  his 
turn.  He  heard  a  familiar  voice  outside,  and 
caught  a  glimpse  of  Hugh,  the  Yeoman,  squat- 
ting on  the  slippery    iron    deck,  talking  with 

219 


SICILY  IN   SHADOW  AND   IN   SUN 

a  machinist  come  on  board  that  morning  to  join 
the  Messina  party. 

"  We  was  to  Suez  on  the  '  Culgoa  '  long 
about  the  end  of  December,"  Hugh  was  saying, 
"  when  we  got  a  message  from  Roosevelt  to 
get  up  steam  and  push  through  to  Messina, 
and  give  them  all  the  food  and  clothing  we 
could  spare.  We  had  a  thousand  loaves  ready 
when  we  sailed  into  that  Lord -forsaken  place! 
We  let  it  down  to  'em  in  nets.  We  been  hanging 
around  these  parts  ever  since." 

The  machinist  asked  a  question.  The  Yeo- 
man's answer  was  energetic: 

"Sure!  Didn't  you  know.'^  Roosevelt  is 
sending  out  wood  to  build  three  thousand 
houses  for  these  Eyetalians,  and  we're  the 
Johnnies  that's  going  to  build  'em.  Did 
you  ever  hear  the  likes  o'  that.^*  Ain't  he  a 
wonder!  " 

Later  in  the  morning  J.  went  on  shore  with 
the  doctor,  in  search  of  sheets  and  towels.  He 
was  much  chagrined  that  he  had  not  brought  his 
own,  and  I  that  I  had  not  sent  them  —  we 
shall  know  better  next  time.  They  left  Naples 
that   afternoon,    and    early   the   next   morning 

(the  22nd  of  February)  the  "  Celtic,"  her  white 

220 


BUILDING   THE   NEW   MESSINA 

sides  shining,  her  rigging  gay  with  bunting 
in  honor  of  Washington's  birthday,  sailed 
through  the  Straits  and  into  the  harbor  of 
Messina.  As  they  approached  the  Faro,  the 
oflScers  gathered  on  the  poop  deck.  Bel- 
knap's keen  eyes,  sailor's  eyes  that  see  so 
much  more  than  others,  scrutinized  the  water- 
front. 

'*  Things  are  waking  up!  "  he  said.  "  There's 
a  schooner  taking  on  a  cargo  of  lemons !  That 
tramp  steamer  is  discharging  lumber." 

Half  a  dozen  ships  lay  in  the  old  harbor  of 
Zancle,  unloading  all  manner  of  building  mate- 
rials. Yes,  trade  had  come  back  to  the  indispen- 
sable city,  as  it  always  has  done  after  every 
earthquake  since  the  one  that  frightened  Ulysses 
and  the  Greeks  of  his  time;  the  ancients  made 
stories  and  myths  about  that  earthquake  that 
still  delight  us.  Ulysses  landed  in  Sicily,  you 
remember,  with  twelve  of  his  men  and  entered 
the  cave  of  Polyphemus,  a  terrible  one-eyed 
giant  who  tended  his  giant  sheep  on  the  slopes 
of  Mt.  Etna,  the  burning  mountain  that  stood 
over  the  workshop  of  Vulcan;  you  can  see  the 
smoke,  sometimes  the  fire  of  the  smithy,  coming 

out  of  the  hole  at  the  top  of  the  mountain  to 

221 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND  IN  SUN 

this  day.  The  giant  killed  and  ate  six  of  the 
adventurers;  he  would  have  killed  them  all  but 
for  the  crafty  Ulysses,  who  made  the  Cyclops 
drunk  and  while  he  slept  put  out  his  single  eye 
with  a  red-hot  pole.  Then  Ulysses  and  his  six 
remaining  companions  concealed  themselves 
under  the  bellies  of  the  giant  sheep;  and  so, 
when  Polyphemus  let  out  his  flock  to  graze, 
they  escaped.  (I  myself  have  seen  this  ad- 
venture pictured  in  an  ancient  sculpture  at 
Palermo.)  When  the  Cyclops  found  his  pris- 
oners were  gone,  he  roared  with  anger  and  pur- 
sued them,  hurling  great  rocks  after  them;  but 
being  blind  his  aim  was  not  good,  and  three  of 
the  boulders  fell  into  the  sea,  where  you  can 
find  them  today  by  Aci  Castello.  One  has  a 
round  hole  like  an  eye,  through  which  the  sun- 
light shines  as  it  once  did  through  the  single 
eye  of  the  Cyclops.  All  this  means  that  some 
Greek  sailors  "  in  the  dim  red  dawn  of  man  " 
really  were  caught  in  an  earthquake  and  were 
so  greatly  frightened  that  their  descendants 
not  only  made  myths  and  legends  about  it, 
but  remembered  it. 

Centuries  after,   when  Theocles,   the   Greek 

merchant,  drew  up  his  little  fleet  of  vessels  on  the 

222 


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REGGIO.     WRECK  OF  RAILROAD.     Page  151. 


STREET  IN  REGGiO.     Page  133. 


BUILDING  THE  NEW  MESSINA 

long  sandy  point  that  runs  out  into  the  sea 
below  Taormina,  and  founded  Naxos,  the  first 
Greek  settlement  in  Sicily,  they  still  talked 
about  the  troubles  of  Ulysses.  The  real  danger 
of  the  island,  these  early  adventurers  said,  was 
not  the  Sicans  —  they  were  a  quiet  agricultural 
people,  no  match  for  the  clever  Greeks  —  but 
Polyphemus,  the  Laestrygones,  and  Hephaes- 
tus. They  were  right;  Sicily's  real  danger  now 
as  then  is  the  terrible  volcanic  force,  to  account 
for  whose  havoc  the  ancients  created  those  dear 
giants  and  monsters,  the  Cyclops,  the  Titans, 
and  a  hundred  others. 

In  the  lovely  crescent-shaped  harbor  that 
once  was  called  Zancle  (sickle),  then  Messana, 
now  Messina,  two  large  deserted  fruit  steamers 
lay  swinging  idly  at  their  moorings.  When 
there  was  so  much  for  ships  to  do,  it  was  strange 
to  see  these  splendid  freighters  idle. 

"  To  whom  do  they  belong.^  "  J.  asked. 
Alfredo  Brofferio,  Tenente  di  Vascello,  an  Italian 
navy  officer,  detailed  to  help  Belknap  in  his 
work,  answered: 

*'  To  three  little  children.     Formerly  they  were 

owned   by   a   great  firm.      The  partners   were 

all  killed;    of   their  families  only  these  infants 

223 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND  IN   SUN 

survive.  The  ships  may  lie  there  till  they  rot  — 
who  knows  if  they  will  ever  get  up  steam 
agamr 

The  "  Celtic's  "  great  anchor  splashed  in  the 
water,  her  cables  sang  as  they  slipped  through 
the  hawse-holes. 

"  Do  you  see  that  house?  "    Brofferio  pointed 

to  a  mass  of  ruins  on  the  Marina.      *'  I  lived 

there   with  my    Signora  and    our  children  for 

two  years.    On  the  22nd  of  December,  six  days 

before  the   earthquake,  I  was  ordered  away  to 

sea.     My  wife   decided  to  remain  in  Messina. 

*  We   are  so  comfortable  heje,'  she    said,  *  the 

climate  suits  the  children.'     So  it  was  agreed. 

The  night  before  I  was  to  leave,  there  was  a 

slight  earthquake   shock,  but  a  mere  nothing; 

we  had  often  felt  worse.     I  thought  nothing  of 

it.    Women,  however,  feel  things  that  we  cannot 

—  my  wife  said  to  me:     *  This   is  a  warning; 

tomorrow  morning  the  children  and  I  will  depart 

with   thee   for   Naples,'    her    very   words.      A 

sailor's    wife    makes    long    journeys    at    short 

notice;   we  all  left  together.      If  she  had  not 

been  so  wise  —  "  Brofferio's  steady  blue  eyes 

grew  troubled,  *'  you  see?     Not  one  who  lived 

in  that  house  is  alive  today!  " 

224 


BUILDING  THE  NEW   MESSINA 

"  The  Flying  Dutchman  sailed  away,  oh  yes,  oh ! 
He  tried  to  enter  Table  Bay  a  hundred  years  ago!  " 

The  song  of  the  sailor  at  the  masthead  broke 
the  long  silence  that  fell  on  the  group. 

'*  Today  is  a  festa  in  your  country."  Brof- 
ferio  shook  himself  and  pointed  to  the  "  Celtic's  '* 
three  flags  and  extra  bunting;  "  a  saint's  day?  '* 

"  Why,  yes!  "  said  J.;  "  you  may  call  it  so. 
Three  years  ago  today  I  went  down  to  the 
North  End  (Boston's  Little  Italy)  in  search  of 
Parmesan  cheese;  an  Italian  grocer  at  the 
corner  of  North  and  Cross  Streets  sells  the 
real  kind  in  solid  nubbles,  hard  as  a  brickbat, 
not  that  paltry  grated  stuff  in  bottles.  As  I 
passed  the  Catholic  church,  I  saw  a  poor  Italian 
woman  trying  to  get  in.  She  knocked,  pounded, 
even  kicked  the  church  door;  but  nobody  paid 
any  attention.  Then  she  took  off  her  fazoletto 
—  from  her  dress  she  was  Abbruzese  —  spread 
it  on  the  church  steps,  knelt,  folded  her  hands, 
and  began  to  pray: 

"  '  0  Santo  Washingtone  mio,  non  hanno  aperto 

la  chiesa  '  (O  my  Saint  Washington,  they  have 

not   opened   the   church!),    her    prayer   began. 

You    see    she    added     Saint    Washington,    the 

patron  of  her  new  country,  to  her    Calendar 

225 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND  IN  SUN 

of  Saints;  she  had  come  to  say  a  prayer,  per- 
haps hght  a  candle  to  him,  but  the  church, 
open  on  all  other  saints'  days,  was  inexplicably 
closed  on  this!  " 

A  boatload  of  Italian  naval  officers  and  port 
officials  now  came  on  board  to  offer  the  usual 
courtesies;  Brofferio  explained  to  them  the 
reason  for  the  "  Celtic's  "  three  flags  and  eictra 
bunting;  soon  after  this  all  the  Italian  navy 
ships  in  the  harbor  hoisted  their  masthead  flags. 

"  You  see?  "  said  J.,  "  they  too  are  cele- 
brating the  festa  of  Santo  Washingtone!  " 

*'  And  the  weather?  "  Brofferio  asked  an 
Italian  officer,  *'  always  the  same?  " 

"You  may  say  so!  Per  Bacco,  this  is  the 
fifty-sixth  day  since  the  disaster;  on  forty- 
five  of  these  blessed  days  it  has  rained  as  in 
the  time  of  the  deluge!  " 

"  The  Quartermaster  reports  a  steamer  stand- 
ing in  towards  the  harbor,  flying  the  American 
flag  and  a  white  pennant  with  the  words :  *  Head- 
quarters of  the  U.  S.  Carpenters.'  " 

When  he  heard  that,  J.  ran    for  his  kodak, 

just  in  time  to  photograph  the  *'  Eva,"  the  first 

American  lumber  ship,  as  she  dropped  anchor 

close  in  shore. 

226 


ARRIVAL  OF  THE  "  EVA."     fage  226. 


AMERICAN  VILLAGE.  MESSINA.     FRAME  OF  FIRST  HOUSE.     Page  230. 


BUILDING  THE   NEW  MESSINA 

"  Gosh!  "  said  Hugh,  the  Yeoman,  scanning 
the  "  Eva's  "  decks,  "  there  are  a  couple  of 
Boston  cops  aboard.  Wonder  who  they've 
come  for?  "  The  American  Carpenters'  uni- 
form was  very  like  the  Boston  policeman's. 

With  the  arrival  of  the  '*  Eva,"  we  began  to 
see  the  tangible  results  of  all  that  telegraphing 
between  America  and  Italy,  the  Ambassador's 
despatches,  Mr.  Hooper's  appeal  to  Boston 
(never  appealed  to  in  vain),  Mr.  Parrish's  cor- 
respondence with  Mr.  Taft,  President  of  the 
American  Red  Cross.  They  had  not  let  the 
grass  grow  under  their  feet  at  home;  when 
they  understood  that  wood  and  building  material 
for  houses  was  what  was  most  wanted  in  Italy, 
our  people,  acting  through  Congress  and  through 
the  American  Red  Cross  Society,  *'  came  up  to 
the  scratch  "  nobly,  gave  with  two  hands  and 
never  counted  the  cost.  Here  was  the  *'  Eva," 
the  first  timber  ship,  as  a  living  proof.  No  time, 
no  expense,  had  been  spared  in  fitting  her  out; 
as  she  lay  alongside  the  dock  in  New  York,  the 
stevedores  worked  day  and  night,  in  double 
shifts,  loading  her  with  the  good  sweet-smelling 
Carolina  pine.     There  was  but  one  bitter  drop 

in  that  cup;  the  '*  Eva  "  was  a  British  steamer 

227 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND   IN   SUN 

—  when,  oh,  when  shall  we  do  our  own  carrying 
by  sea? 

Wednesday,  February  23rd,  though  a  drizzling 
rain  was  falling,  the  work  of  discharging  the 
"  Eva's  "  cargo  began  at  seven  o'clock.  Ensign 
Spofford  was  in  charge  of  the  men.  He  had  a 
dozen  "  Scorpions  "  to  help  him  discipline  the 
shrieking,  gesticulating  mob  of  Sicilian  steve- 
dores and  carters.  The  precious  lumber,  tools, 
glass,  roofing  paper,  hardware,  all  the  priceless 
materials  for  the  American  Village  must  be 
guarded  from  the  poor  homeless  Messinesi,  who 
thought  they  were  only  taking  their  own  when 
they  helped  themselves.  That  first  rainy  day 
the  task  must  have  looked  long  and  hard  to 
officers  and  men.  Belknap,  fearful  of  demur- 
rage, just  touched  them  with  his  restless  spur  — 
it  was  enough,  more  than  the  rowelling  of 
another  —  and  they  sprang  with  ardor  to  their 
task.  The  carts  for  transporting  the  lumber 
from  the  Marina  were  of  every  description, 
from  gay  little  painted  carretfi  to  lumbering  ox 
wains.  The  beasts  of  burthen  included  mules, 
carriage  horses,  saddle  horses,  infinitesimal  don- 
keys.   The  carts  must  needs  keep  within  hailing 

distance  of  each  other,  for  the  Viale  San  Mar- 

228 


BUILDING  THE   NEW  MESSINA 

tino,  leading  to  the  site  of  the  future  village, 
was  a  slough  of  despond,  a  sea  of  liquid  mud. 
The  poor  animals  floundered,  the  wheels  sank 
hub  deep  in  the  dreadful  mire.  Time  after 
time  the  beasts  from  three  or  four  carts  must  be 
hitched  to  a  wagon  stuck  in  the  mud. 

The  motley  stream  of  carts,  each  under  the 
guard  of  a  "  Scorpion,"  crawled  at  a  snail's 
pace  from  the  Marina,  up  the  Viale  San  Mar- 
tino,  to  the  Valley  of  the  Mosella,  a  lemon  grove 
on  the  outskirts  of  the  old  city.  The  site 
assigned  to  the  Americans  (as  beautiful  a  site 
as  heart  could  wish)  was  on  the  farther  side  of 
the  Torrente  Zaera,  a  deep  water  course.  At 
the  Valley  of  the  Mosella  —  usually  called  the 
Zona  Case  Americana  —  Lieutenant  Buchanan, 
Ensign  Wilcox  and  two  American  carpenters  re- 
ceived the  lumber.  The  Americans  watched 
the  leisurely  Sicilians  unload  the  first  two  carts. 

"  At  this  rate,"  said  Buchanan,  "  we  shall 
pass  the  rest  of  our  lives  in  Messina.  Here,  all 
you  Scorpions!  "  Then  followed  an  object 
lesson  those  Messinesi  never  forgot. 

"  Half   a    dozen  of    our  sailor  men,"  writes 

Belknap,    "  led    by    Dougherty,  the    gunner's 

mate,  ran  up  and  took  possession  of  one  of  the 

229 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND   IN  SUN 

carts ;  they  tipped  the  load  off  sidewise  in  three 
shakes.  The  natives  looked  on  and  gaped  a  bit, 
but  they  took  the  hint  and  we  had  no  further 
delay  of  that  kind.  Sometimes  our  sailors  were 
even  able  to  infuse  into  their  gangs  the  spirit 
of  a  regular  coaling-ship  hustle." 

Later  Belknap  had  the  happy  thought  of  pre- 
senting each  carter  with  a  ten  centesimo  piece 
at  the  end  of  every  trip;  it  was  wonderful  how 
many  more  trips  they  managed  to  make  after 
that.  In  a  few  days  a  contractor  was  found  who 
furnished  a  set  of  fine  solid  carts,  drawn  by 
beautiful  red  Sicilian  oxen;  the  work  now 
went  on  rapidly.  Friday  night,  forty-eight 
hours  after  the  "  Eva  "  hove  in  sight,  the 
first  American  portable  house  was  put  to- 
gether, and  the  frame  of  the  first  cottage  was 
set  up. 

Gasperone,  who  found  J.  out  the  very  day  he 

reached  Messina,  hovered  about  the  neat  little 

yellow  cottage  with  its  green  blinds,  well-fitted 

doors  and  windows,  its  convenient  handles  and 

latches.     He  felt  the  even  clapboards,  rattled 

the  handle  of  the   door,  tried  the  hinge  of  a 

shutter;   then,  running  both  his  hands  through 

his  mop  of  hair,  exclaimed: 

230 


BUILDING  THE   NEW  MESSINA 

"  It's  a  miracle!  Piff,  pafiF,  two  taps  of  a 
martello,  and  behold,  a  house!  " 

Saturday  the  rain,  that  till  then  had  come 
in  fitful  showers,  settled  into  the  regular  earth- 
quake downpour  to  show  what  it  could  do.  It 
was  impossible  for  the  carpenters  to  work  under 
this  deluge. 

"  Belknap  didn't  let  a  little  thing  like  that 
stop  him,"  writes  J.  "  He  put  the  Americans 
to  work  and  in  ten  hours  built  the  great  work- 
shed,  sixty-four  feet  long,  where  from  that 
time  on,  rain  or  shine,  work  was  always  going 
on." 

The  different  members  of  the  party  were 
now  working  with  the  regularity  of  the  cogs  of  a 
well-oiled  machine.  Brofferio  was  busy  making 
those  official  visits  to  the  civil,  military  and 
naval  authorities,  which  did  so  much  to  make 
everything  run  smoothly;  from  the  first  Brof- 
ferio knew  no  other  duty  than  to  serve  the 
interests  of  the  expedition  to  which  he  was 
attached;  in  this  way  he  could  best  serve  his 
country.  Here,  there,  always  where  he  was 
most  needed,  was  Belknap.  He  and  his  men 
were  from  first  to  last  smart  in  their  dress,  as 

if  they  had  been  on  duty  at  Annapolis;    that 

231 


SICILY  IN    SHADOW  AND  IN  SUN 

was  one  of  the  great  lessons  they  taught  the 
demorahzed  Sicilians.  Neat,  well  set  up,  clean 
shaven,  with  spick-and-span  linen,  the  Americans 
did  their  work,  the  work  of  giants  it  seemed  to 
the  slow  Sicilians,  and  never  for  one  moment 
was  their  discipline  relaxed. 

The  chart-house  of  the  "  Celtic  "  became  a 
sort  of  Box  and  Cox  apartment.  By  night 
Captain  Belknap  slept  there;  by  day  J.  stood 
at  his  drawing-board  and  worried  out  the  plans 
for  America's  part  of  the  New  Messina.  His 
letter  diary,  written  on  odd  scraps  of  paper, 
gives  little  flashes  of  side-light  on  the  enterprise. 
On  the  22nd  of  February  he  writes: 

"  I  have  just  had  breakfast;  the  coffee  with 
rich  American  cream  is  a  dream.  I  am  having 
a  glorious  time  designing  a  hotel.  Tomorrow 
the  ship  arrives  with  the  first  lot  of  houses  to 
be  put  up  here.  Mr.  Billings,  representing 
the  Massachusetts  Committee,  (interesting 
man),  and  those  two  delightful  men  from 
Taormina,  Bowdoin  and  Wood,  that  I  met 
before,  lunch  on  board. 

"  February  23rd:    The  first  American  timber 

ship,  the  '  Eva,'    is    dropping    anchor  at  this 

moment   close  by.       Tomorrow   the   real   rush 

232 


BUILDING    THE   NEW  MESSINA 

will  begin.  Everything  is  all  so  new  on  board 
a  ship  like  this  that  I  enjoy  it  thoroughly.  I 
am  treated  like  a  king.  I  have  been  design- 
ing a  little  outside  kitchen,  a  very  primitive 
arrangement;   I  hope  it  will  work. 

*'  February  26th:  I  got  up  at  six  o-'clock  this 
morning  and  went  ashore  for  the  first  time  since 
we  arrived.  I  have  been  drawing  the  plans  for 
the  houses,  making  working  drawings  and 
tracings,  and  literally  have  not  had  one  moment 
to  call  my  own.  I  made  a  photograph  this 
morning  of  the  first  house,  one  of  the  forty- 
nine  portable  houses  Massachusetts  sent.  I 
don't  want  to  quit  this  job  till  it's  finished  and 
it's  only  just  begun.  In  a  way  it's  much  harder 
work  than  the  '  Bayern  '  because  it's  head 
work.  I  have  had  to  design  an  hotel  two  stories 
high,  to  remodel  entirely  the  plans  sent  from 
America  —  a  difficult  task— to  design  a  church 
on  a  primitive  plan.  The  high  altar  end  is  to 
be  in  a  little  house  but  the  main  body  of  the 
church  is  to  be  roofed  in  only,  no  sides.  I  have 
in  mind  the  *  only  place  where  the  cannibals 
are! '  Do  you  remember  the  great  shed  in  the 
Midway  Pleasance  at  the  Chicago  World's  Fair, 

where    the    King    of    Dahomey    sat.'^     Chanler 

233 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND  IN   SUN 

turned  up  this  morning,  lunched  on  board,  and 

left  this    afternoon    for  Reggio  with    his  little 

band.     I  was  glad  to  see  him,  but  quite  glad  he 

didn't  stay  as  that  would  have  meant  one  more 

in  our  cabin,  and  we  can  only  dress  one  at  a 

time.     I   had   to   make  a  set  of  drawings  for 

Chanler  to  take  to  Reggio  to  show  the  General; 

but  after  I  had  swatted  for  an  hour  and  a  half 

to  get  them  finished   for  him,  he  went  off  and 

forgot   them.      Rome   seems   like   a   dream;    I 

feel  as  if  I  had  always  lived  on  board  ship ! 

**  February.'^     I  think   this   is    the   last   day 

of  the  month.     I  know  it   is  Sunday,  but  all 

days  are  alike  and  all  go  so  quickly.    I  literally 

have  no  time  for  anything  unless  I  steal  it  as 

I  am  doing  now.      I  never  felt  so  sorry  for 

architects  before.     It  seems  to  me  I  have  made 

hundreds  of  drawings  (of  course  I  haven't)  and 

all  of  them  have  to  be   changed  either  by  the 

prefect,  the  Capo    Ingegnere,   the  captain,  or 

the  carpenters;    but  it's  all  in  the  day's  work. 

One  cannot  make  such  a  good  showing,  however, 

when  one  drawing  after  another  is  either  altered 

or  discarded.      I  am  sitting  down  to  write  this 

—  the  first  time  I  have  sat  down,  except  to  eat, 

since  I  came  aboard.    The  sailors  squat  on  the 

234 


BUILDING  THE  NEW  MESSINA 

deck  and  write  letters,  using  their  knees  as  a 
desk.  It  looks  all  right  but,  as  the  decks  are 
made  of  iron,  one's  feet  will  slip  away  from 
one.  Letter  day  on  board  is  a  sight  to  be 
seen.  Remember  that  post  cards  have  a 
peculiar  fascination  for  sailor  men,  who 
haven't  been  home  since  Lord  knows  when, 
many  of  them;  we  shipped  a  lot,  forty  or  so, 
who  were  on  their  way  home  from  the  Pacific 
cruise,  and  brought  them  here.  It's  blowing 
great  guns,  and  all  the  ships  are  strengthen- 
ing their  moorings  to  keep  from  being  blown 
into  their  neighbors.  Hugh  has  just  looked 
in  to  bring  me  a  letter  from  you.  Captain 
Belknap  is  in  a  hurry  to  get  the  hotel  de- 
sign finished.  Most  of  the  changes  that  are 
made  are  to  save  wood,  so  as  to  have  enough 
to  build  with;  but  if  rafters,  composts,  floor- 
beams,  studs,  and  even  sills,  are  cut  out  con- 
tinually, a  day's  work  soon  disappears  in  re- 
spacing  them.  I  hope  you  will  carry  out  your 
plan  of  coming  down  to  Taormina.  The  hotels 
are  all  closing  for  lack  of  business,  sending 
their  guests  to  one  ('  The  Timeo  '),  and  even 
that  is  not  half  full.     You  ought  to  see   Sicily, 

you  ought  to  get  some  idea  of  the  earthquake's 

235 


SICILY  IN   SHADOW  AND  IN  SUN 

work,  for  no  matter  how  wild  your  idea  may 
be,  it  will  be  tame  beside  the  real  thing.  Wood 
and  Bowdoin  are  at  Taormina,  working  like 
slaves  to  relieve  the  villages  between  here  and 
there  —  they  suffered  fearfully  —  and  you  could 
see  and  do  much.  We  have  had  quite  a  lively 
time  since  I  began  this.  It  is  blowing  a  gale 
and  things  are  happening.  Our  anchor  lost 
its  hold  and  dragged  until  we  were  not  more 
than  six  metres  from  the  bows  of  the  steamer 
alongside  of  us.  I  didn't  know  anything  out 
of  the  way  was  happening  till  I  heard  quick 
commands  and  sailor  men  running;  when  I 
looked  out  and  saw  they  had  sent  the  steam 
launch  over  to  an  Italian  man-of-war  with  a 
hawser,  which  was  made  fast  on  board  of  her 
and  the  other  end  was  hauled  in  by  the  donkey 
engine,  and  we  were  pulled  away  just  in  time 
to  prevent  a  collision  —  how  they  did  it  all 
without  my  assistance,  I  can't  quite  make  out! 
They  are  getting  over  another  anchor  now  for 
safety's  sake,  and  they  will  probably  need  it 
as  the  wind  seems  little  inclined  to  quiet  down. 
It's  very  warm  here;  I  haven't  worn  my  over- 
coat since  the  first  day.     I  doubt  if  you  will 

be  able  to  see  much  of  me  if  you  come,  but 

236 


BUILDING   THE   NEW   MESSINA 

they  will  probably  let  me  come  to  Taormina  for 

a  day.     In  about   ten  days  we  go  ashore  and 

live  in  the   first  twelve   houses,  and  this  ship 

goes   away.      The   ship's    doctor   went   ashore 

and  found  a  spring  of  water  up  a  hillside  near 

the   camp,    and    it   will    be    brought   down   in 

breakers   every   day,   in   a   dear   little   painted 

donkey  cart  like  the  one  I  brought  you  from 

Palermo,  and  not  so  much  bigger.    The  first  bag 

of  mail,  sent  on  to  Messina  by  the  '  Scorpion,' 

was   returned   by   the  postal   authorities  here, 

hence  the  long  delay  in  hearing  from  Rome. 

"The  next  day,  U.  S.  S.  'Celtic,'    Messina: 

Nothing  has  happened  since  I  wrote  you  except 

one  rather  severe  earthquake,  which  I  thought 

was  the  ice  machine.     I  am  making  drawings 

for  the  whole  outfit,  and  duplicates  to  send  to 

various  places  where  our  wooden  palaces  are 

desired.     I  am  at  this  moment  supposed  to  be 

making   three    tracings    and    an    entirely    new 

scheme  for  an  hotel.     One  is  entirely  worked 

out,  with    four  bathrooms,  capable  of  putting 

up  a  hundred  people  or  more,  with  a  great  big 

dining-room   and    restaurant,   thirty   by   forty 

feet,  with  all  the  kitchen  quarters.     I  try  to 

keep  copies  of  the  plans  for  you,  but  they  are 

237 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND  IN  SUN 

snatched  away  from  me,  naturally  enough, 
as  soon  as  they  are  finished.  I  am  to  have  my 
innings  in  building  the  duckiest  little  kitchen 
you  ever  dreamt  of  and  a  whole  carpenter  to 
help  me.  Chanler  blew  over  yesterday  and 
lunched  with  us.  In  the  evening  he  left  for 
Naples  on  business;  he  returns  in  a  couple  of 
days;   they  all  adore  him. 

"  '  Celtic,'  next  day:  Chanler  blew  back  from 
Naples  at  seven  o'clock  this  morning,  and  went 
back  to  Reggio  about  an  hour  later.  He  is 
looking  awfully  well  and  is  full  of  business.  I 
am  sending  a  film  to  the  photographer  to  be 
developed  of  the  first  portable  house,  and 
another  of  the  work-shop  and  houses  in  course 
of  construction  at  the  end  of  the  first  week.  It 
has  rained  a  great  deal  and  Hooper's  rubber 
coat  has  been  of  immense  use  to  me  —  tell 
him  when  you  see  him,  and  do  show  him  the 
photos. 

"  March  6th:  Mr.  Bicknell,  of  the  Red  Cross, 
came  today  with  his  secretary,  an  avvocato, 
Donati  by  name.  A  Roman,  of  the  real  old 
Roman  type,  he  looks  like  that  bust  in  the  Vati- 
can, the  one  you  always  say  is  so  modern  — just 

like  the  sort  of  man  who  takes  you  in  to  dinner. 

238 


BUILDING  THE   NEW  MESSINA 

"  Wednesday,  March  9th:  I  don't  know  how 
much  longer  I  stay  —  if  I  see  it  through,  it 
will  be  the  first  of  May  before  I  get  away.  I 
am  terribly  rushed  as  I  have  to  get  out  a  set 
of  drawings  for  Queen  Elena,  of  the  houses  we 
are  to  put  up  at  her  village.  That  is  to  say, 
I  am  arranging  where  they  are  to  go.  I  took 
the  Duca  d'Ascoli,  the  Queen's  gentleman-in- 
waiting,  over  the  land  at  the  Villaggio  Regina 
Elena  yesterday.  I  am  trying  to  get  the  draw- 
ings done  for  the  Queen,  and  translating  em- 
ployment forms,  and  things  happen  every 
minute  as  well.  I  am  well  and  happy  and  work- 
ing like  anything.  The  hotel  is  accepted.  The 
Queen  wants  me  to  make  designs  for  a  school- 
house  for  her;  and  I  am  trying  to  do  it,  but 
there  are  usually  anywhere  from  two  to  four 
people  in  the  chart-house,  and  I  get  my  elbow 
poked  just  as  I  am  almost  successfully  through 
an  ink  drawing. 

"U.  S.  S.  'Celtic,'  March  11,  1909:  It's 
8.45  A.  M.  Belknap  went  over  to  Reggio  this 
morning  at  seven  and  doesn't  get  back  till  lunch 
time,  and  I  have  a  great  stunt  before  me. 
Saturday  we  go  out  to  live  in  our  first  batch 

of  twelve  houses,  which  are  finished.    The  water 

239 


SICILY  IN   SHADOW  AND   IN   SUN 

supply  comes  from  a  mountain  stream,  away 
above  where  the  town  supply  comes  from.  It 
has  been  analyzed  by  the  doctor  (who  goes 
with  us)  and  piped  by  the  '  Celtic's  '  plumber  to 
the  camp.  The  work  that  has  been  undertaken 
is  simply  immense.  The  houses  are  spotting 
themselves  over  the  surface  of  the  earth,  like 
flies  on  sticky  fly-paper,  as  thick  and  fast. 
Yesterday  was  a  tremendous  day;  I  had  to 
get  out  the  hotel  plan  for  the  engineer,  to 
give  our  estimate  of  how  much  wire  would  be 
needed  for  electric  lighting  of  it,  and  the  Duca 
d'Ascoli  took  off  at  five  o'clock  a  bundle  of 
drawings  for  Queen  Elena;  and  all  the  time  I 
was  being  joggled  and  jostled  by  people  coming 
in  and  out,  and  many  of  them  staying  in  the 
chart-house.  I  cannot  imagine  where  you  got 
the  idea  of  cold.  I  wrote  a  long  time  ago  that  I 
had  never  had  occasion  to  wear  my  overcoat 
since  I  came  down,  and  it's  been  very  much  in 
the  way  in  these  cramped  quarters.  Bill  o* 
the  Bilge's  rubber  coat  has  been  my  greatest 
boon;  though  I  have  sweltered  in  it,  it  has  kept 
me  dry.  Twice  we  have  had  dinner  on  the 
quarter-deck;     we    did    last    night.       Captain 

Huse  gave  a  dinner  for  the  Duca  d'Ascoli,  the 

240 


»,.-rff<<      ■ 


D 

<  . 

<  ^ 


UJ  O 

o  o 


s 
< 

OS 

d2 

<2 

r!<-> 


MESSINA.    VIA  I.  SETTEMBRE. 


PALMI.     THE  CATHEDRAL.     Page  158. 


BUILDING   THE   NEW   MESSINA 

Captain  of  the  Port  and  the  Comandante 
of  the  Italian  man-of-war.  Ascoli  sat  on  the 
captain's  right;  we  had  a  very  jolly  evening. 
About  my  getting  away  from  here;  it's  a 
question.  I  am  just  about  to  tackle  the  ar- 
rangement of  the  houses  we  are  to  build  for 
the  Queen's  village.  I  have  worked  out  the 
hotel,  special  houses  for  Queen  Elena,  work- 
rooms, schools,  a  church  for  our  own  village 
here  in  Messina,  on  a  modest  plan  that  will 
fit  the  lumber  we  have  at  our  disposition. 
The  hotel  will  have  seventy-six  rooms  apart 
from  oflSces. 

"March  14th:  Our  warship,  the  'Celtic,' 
leaves  here  on  Monday  some  time,  but  we  go  to 
the  houses  tomorrow.  The  ship  only  waits  to 
give  us  a  chance  to  find  out  if  we  need  anything 
more.  I  have  sent  two  rolls  of  photographs  to 
be  developed,  the  Villaggio  Regina  Elena  and 
the  U.  S.  village  at  the  end  of  the  second  week's 
work.  There  is  a  wall  along  the  river  bed,  the 
Torrente  Zaera,  showing  a  water-pipe  that 
brings  the  water  to  the  cottages.  It  was  turned 
on  yesterday.  I  tried  to  get  a  photograph  of 
the  kitchen  sink  with  the  water  running  and 

the  first  jet  of  water.     The  others  are  of  the 

241 


SICILY   IN   SHADOW  AND   IN   SUN 

American  building  work  —  I  hope  they  will 
give  you  some  idea  of  it.  The  most  precious 
of  all  the  snap-shots  is  the  one  of  a  church 
belfry  with  a  clock,  the  hands  pointing  to  the 
exact  hour  of  the  catastrophe.  I  call  it  the 
Tell  Tale  Tower.  This  is  God's  own  country  in 
charge  of  the  Devil.  Do  you  know  of  any  one 
like  Flint  or  Thompson  you  could  send  down 
to  help  out,  a  good  boss  with  some  idea  of 
method  and  system  and  accounts,  who  can 
speak  Italian?  I  am  so  sorry  Thompson  can't 
come.  A  divine  day !  I  wish  I  had  brought  my 
light  summer  suit.  I  think  we  are  going  to  be 
comfortable  in  the  camp.  Belknap  thinks  of 
everything;   I  never  knew  such  a  man! 

**  Monday,  March  15th:  We  are  just  off  for 
the  camp  on  the  Piano  della  Mosella.  It  is  a 
glorious  day  but  hot,  though  it  is  early,  not  yet 
ten.  Last  night  we  dined  on  board  the  Italian 
man-of-war,  *  Dandolo,'  and  I  send  you  one 
of  the  menus.  They  are  all  done  by  the  sailor 
men  and  I  thought  would  interest  you.  Did  I 
tell  you  the  Queen  made  a  request  that  we 
build  for  her  three  hospitals  —  one  in  her  own 
village,  one  at   Messina  and  one  at  Reggio.'*    I 

am  expecting  to  get  to  work    on  the  designs 

242 


BUILDING  THE  NEW  MESSINA 

as  soon  as  we  get  instructions  from  Mr.  Gris- 
com.  You  must  not  go  away  from  Italy  without 
coming  here.  Things  move  very  rapidly  and 
many  of  them  at  once!  " 

They  move  so  rapidly  that  it's  breathless 
business  trying  to  follow  them.  The  work 
planned  was  roughly  this:  To  build  at  Messina 
a  village  of  a  thousand  houses  with  the  neces- 
sary public  buildings,  hospitals,  schools,  church 
and  hotel.  The  hotel  was  of  vital  importance. 
One  of  the  worst  features  of  the  disaster  was  the 
fact  that  the  brains  of  Messina  had  been  practi- 
cally w^iped  out.  The  people  saved  were  largely 
of  the  working  class,  who  are  up  early  in  the 
morning  and  who  live  in  small  houses.  The 
great  palaces  of  the  rich  proved  fatal  death- 
traps to  most  of  them.  The  few  business  men 
of  sense  and  energy  left  to  cope  with  that 
unheard-of  chaos  had  no  place  to  sleep  or  eat 
at  Messina.  They  were  forced  to  live  at  Catania 
or  Taormina,  thus  losing  many  precious  hours 
on  the  long  railroad  journeys  back  and  forth. 
Reggio,  from  the  first  the  more  fortunate  of  the 
two   stricken   cities,   soon    had   a   decent   hotel 

lighted  with  electric  light  —  a  thing  never  before 

243 


SICILY   IN   SHADOW  AND   IN   SUN 

known  in  the  ancient  city  the  Romans  called 
Rhegium,  and  Hugh,  the  Yeoman,  spoke  of  as 
Riggio  —  but  Reggio  had  Captain  Cagni !  Be- 
sides the  village  at  Messina,  the  Americans  had 
agreed  to  build  a  hospital  and  about  one  hundred 
houses  at  the  Villaggio  Regina  Elena,  a  charming 
suburb  on  the  other  side  of  Messina,  built  by 
Queen  Elena.  At  Reggio,  another  American  vil- 
lage of  one  thousand  houses  was  to  be  put  up; 
on  the  Calabrian  coast,  in  what  is  called  the 
Palmi  district,  between  Reggio  and  Scylla,  five 
hundred  houses  were  to  be  erected;  and  in  the 
country  between  Taormina  and  Messina  three 
hundred  more,  these  last  to  be  placed  according 
to  the  advice  of  Messrs.  Bowdoin  and  Wood, 
who  ought  to  be  classed  with  San  Pancrazio, 
the  patron  saint  thereabouts.  These  gentlemen 
had,  and  richly  deserved  to  have,  the  forty-nine 
portable  houses  for  their  proteges.  There  is 
an  impression  at  home  that  a  far  larger  number 
of  these  admirable  portable  houses  were  sent 
than  was  the  case.  There  were  only  forty-nine 
in  all,  sent  by  Massachusetts,  who  also  con- 
tributed material  for  three  hundred  houses  and 
much  else  besides. 

The  village  in  the  Valley  of  the  Mosella  was 

244 


'-J^'^'----.^"^' 


MESSINA.     THE  TORRENTE  ZAERA.     Page  241. 


BUILDING   THE  NEW  MESSINA 

to  be  laid  out  in  regular  street  blocks  like  any 
modern  suburban  district  in  America,  each 
block  to  contain  twelve  houses.  Belknap's 
plan  was  to  finish  the  first  twelve  houses,  a 
kitchen  and  an  ice-house,  and  as  soon  as  possible 
take  possession  of  them  and  establish  the  party 
in  camp.  In  the  corner  of  the  central  square  the 
ice-house  was  dug  and  roofed  over,  and  here 
they  stored  thirty  tons  of  ice  and  provisions 
from  the  "  Celtic,"  enough  to  last  three  weeks. 
There  was  great  rejoicing  the  day  the  water 
was  put  in.  There  was  a  shower  bath  in  Buchan- 
an's house,  running  water  in  the  kitchen  sink 
and  men's  washroom,  and  an  outside  faucet 
for  general  use.  The  waste  water  was  led  by  a 
wooden  pipe  to  the  Torrente  Zaera. 

The  fifteenth  of  March,  three  weeks  after  our 
builders  arrived  at  Messina,  they  took  pos- 
session of  the  camp.  It  was  a  glorious  day; 
they  were  astir  early  on  the  "  Celtic  "  packing 
their  kits.  J.  watched  the  men  put  his  draw- 
ing-board and  portfolio  safely  on  the  ox-cart 
under  Hugh's  care,  and  started  to  walk  to  the 
Mosella. 

"  In  the  street  are  a  few  miserable  shops  for 

foodstuffs,"  J.  writes.     "  I  say  street,  but  it  is 

245 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND  IN  SUN 

really  only  a  passageway  where  the  street  used 
to  be.  On  either  side  are  mounds  of  debris 
with  little  groups  of  diggers,  hunting  for  their 
relatives,  with  a  soldier  leaning  on  his  gun 
with  fixed  bayonet  beside  some  coffins.  It  was 
nearly  midday;  one  party  was  using  a  coffin 
for  a  table  and  others  as  chairs  —  truly,  famili- 
arity breeds  contempt.  Not  only  this,  but  I 
saw  little  toddling  babies  put  to  play  in  them, 
to  keep  them  out  of  harm's  way.  One  thing 
shows  a  wicked  lack  of  forethought.  Shelters 
have  been  built  across  the  tram  tracks,  that 
have  only  been  slightly  damaged  in  one  or 
two  places.  They  make  the  entire  route  of 
the  villages  that  have  suffered,  and  ought  to 
be  put  in  operation  immediately." 

Though  he  stopped  to  notice  these  things,  J. 
reached  the  camp  in  time  to  see  the  pretty 
inaugural  ceremony.  At  twelve  o'clock  the 
bugler  from  the  "  Celtic  "  sounded  "  attention." 
Officers  and  men  all  assembled  in  line.  The  two 
civilians,  Mr.  Bicknell  and  J.,  hurried  to  the 
end  of  the  workshop  and  adjusted  their  cameras. 
Belknap  then  read  aloud  a  letter  from  the  Prefect 
of  Messina,  the  Commendatore  Trinchieri,  be- 
ginning: — 

246 


BUILDING  THE   NEW  MESSINA 

"  Most  Il,lustrious  Sir:  —  My  Government 
entrusts  me  with  the  honor  of  according  you 
the  right  to  occupy  a  camp  in  the  Valley  of  the 
Mosella,  and  to  acknowledge  the  justice  of  your 
desires  that  the  National  Flag  of  the  United 
States  of  America  should  fly  above  the  place 
during  the  daylight."    Etc.,  etc.,  etc. 

Tara,  tara,  tara!  The  bugler  sounded  the 
salute  to  the  colors.  The  flag  crept  up  the  tall 
flagstaft'  and  unfolded  in  the  light  breeze. 

"  Three  cheers,  men !  "  cried  Buchanan.  They 
were  given  with  a  will.  "Hurrah,  hurrah, 
hurrah!  " 

There  was  a  little  speechmaking  after  this. 
J.,  busy  with  his  kodak,  only  heard  the  rousing 
cheers  as  the  Stars  and  Stripes,  emblem  of 
the  world's  hope,  floated  over  the  new  settle- 
ment on  the  old,  old  shore  of  Trinacria. 


247 


VIII 

THE   CAMP  BY   TORRENTE   ZAERA 

*'  Zona  Case  Americane,  March  16,  1909. 

"  We  left  the  '  Celtic  '  yesterday  and  came 
out  here  to  our  camp  at  the  Mosella,  where 
everything  is  running  like  clockwork.  I  have  a 
pleasant  room  but  no  view,  while  the  house  where 
the  nails  are  stored  has  a  divine  one.  There's 
no  window  in  Belknap's  room;  he  chose  the 
worst  one  of  all  so  that  no  grumbler  should 
have  the  right  to  kick,"  writes  J.  in  his  first 
letter  after  they  left  the  ship  and  the  hospitable 
Captain  Huse,  of  whose  kindness  frequent  men- 
tion is  made  both  in  letters  and  diary. 

The  camp  stood  in  a  lemon  grove  fronting  the 
Straits  of  Messina,  where  the  whirlpool,  Chary b- 
dis,  darkens  the  sapphire  water  with  streaks 
of  violet.  Across  the  narrow  strip  of  sea  to 
the  left  lay  Scylla,  directly  opposite  Reggio, 
the  dark  Calabrian  mountains  tipped  with 
snow  towering  above.     A  more  sublime  view  it 

would  be  hard  to  find,  but  our  men  did  not  stop 

248 


c-..^-NiK.^<.  -  *iv:« /iv^  >^^ 


JVl 


^--!*, 


vJEEN  ELENA'S  GROUP  OF  AMERICAN  C. -Ti  AGE.-:,     ruge  244. 


THE   CAMP  BY  TORRENTE   ZAERA 

to  look  much  at  views,  or  to  look  back  in  fancy 
at  the  historical  vista,  the  long  line  of  heroes 
and  conquerors  who  had  landed  in  Sicily  before 
them,  and  set  up  their  camps  with  the  same 
care  to  be  within  reach  of  a  good  spring  of 
water.  Of  course  they  must  have  had  some 
dim  sense  that  they  were  living  on  classic 
ground,  familiar  to  them  in  their  school  days. 
They  knew,  or  had  known  then,  that  Ulysses 
and  his  men  and  the  wandering  Aeneas  had 
been  here;  that  Greeks  and  Phoenicians  met 
and  fought  here;  that  Carthage  had  her  first 
battle  with  Rome  not  far  away;  that  Goths, 
Saracens,  Normans,  Germans,  French  and  Span- 
iards had  passed  over  this  ground  before  them. 
Perhaps  they  gave  a  thought  to  the  last  comer. 
Garibaldi,  who  landed  here  with  his  Thousand 
in  1860  and  won  the  jewel,  Sicity,  for  King 
Victor's  crown;  but  it  is  more  likely  they 
thought  very  little  about  what  happened  before 
their  day — it's  so  much  more  fun  to  make 
history  than  to  read  it!  All  these  other  ad- 
venturers and  heroes  landed,  sword  in  hand, 
to  fight  for  the  possession  of  this  fair  Sicily, 
this  Helen  among  earth's  islands.     For  what, 

in  the  name  of  history,  had  these  last  invaders 

249 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND   IN  SUN 

come?  What  booty  did  Belknap  and  his  tnen 
hope  to  find  in  that  abomination  of  desolation, 
Messina?  They  planted  their  flag  where  the 
standards  of  kings  and  conquerors  have  waved, 
as  if  it  were  the  most  natural  thing  in  the  world 
to  do,  and  set  to  work  at  their  task  of  teaching 
the  inhabitants  how  to  build  and  how  to  live 
in  wooden  houses.  Sicily  has  never  had  a 
Wooden  Age  till  now;  here  primitive  man  left 
his  cave  to  build  a  cavelike  house  of  the  soft, 
easily  worked,  tufa  stone  of  the  island.  The 
Northmen  who  helped  the  Sicilians  build  their 
new  homes  —  Danes,  Swiss,  Americans,  Eng- 
lish —  were  at  great  pains  to  teach  them  how  to 
live  safely  and  with  comfort  in  their  wooden 
dwellings,  where  the  two  chief  dangers  to  be 
reckoned  with  are  fire  and  vermin.  For  the 
race  of  Northmen,  these  problems  had  already 
been  solved  by  the  time  Attila,  the  Scourge  of 
God,  built  his  vast  wooden  palace  on  the 
Danube,  only  to  die  there  on  his  wedding 
night  (still  mourned  by  all  true  lovers)  in  the 
arms  of  his  bride,  the  gracious  Hilda.  The 
Northmen's  inherited  knowledge  was  now  to  help 
the  men  of  the  South  solve  the  riddle:  how  to  live 

safely  in  civilized  dwellings  in  a  quaking  land? 

250 


THE  CAMP  BY  TORRENTS  ZAERA 

If  the  Japanese  can  rise  to  be  a  world  power, 
living  in  houses  of  paper  and  bamboo,  there  is 
no  reason  why  the  Calabrians  and  Sicilians 
should  not  learn  to  live  in  wooden  houses, 
should  not  develop  the  caution  and  the  cleanli- 
ness imperative  for  those  who  would  live  safely 
and  decently  within  wooden  walls. 

"  Naturally,"  writes  Belknap,  "  we  took  in- 
terest in  the  houses  other  people  were  building, 
some  of  which  lay  on  either  hand  of  ours.  From 
a  visit  to  the  Lombardy  houses  Mr.  Elliott  got 
the  suggestion  of  a  semi-brick  kitchen,  which 
we  saw  we  must  adopt  if  we  would  make  our 
cottages  equally  suitable  to  their  future  occu- 
pants' habits  of  living,  and  as  safe  from  fire  as 
the  houses  other  people  were  putting  up.  A 
fire  built  on  a  wooden  floor  or  dangerously 
near  a  wooden  wall  is  a  common  sight." 

The  camp  was  astir  early.     The  first  sounds 

came  from   the   kitchen,   where   the  American 

w^ho  cooked  for  the  men  and  the  Sicilian  who 

cooked  for  the  officers  made  a  great  to-do  with 

their  pots  and  pans.     Next  came  the  music  of 

the  goat  bells  —  where  did  they  come  from? 

("  Belknap   thinks   of   everything.")      A   great 

herd  of  shaggy  goats  came  rambling  into  the 

251 


SICILY  IN   SHADOW  AND  IN   SUN 

camp,  driven  by  their  dark  wild-looking  herders. 
Jugs  and  bowls  were  brought  out,  and  the  morn- 
ing supply  of  milk  was  drawn  from  the  streaming 
udders  of  the  patient  goats,  who  browsed  and 
nibbled  at  whatever  they  could  find.  Breakfast 
was  served  at  six,  a  Gargantuan  feast.  There 
is  a  legend  that  the  first  morning  a  hungry  car- 
penter made  away  with  nine  eggs  and  the  larger 
part  of  a  ham.  After  breakfast  the  workmen 
began  to  arrive,  for  the  greater  part  of  the 
actual  manual  work  was  done  by  Italians;  the 
American  oflScers,  carpenters  and  sailors  acted 
as  overseers,  directing  the  work.  The  first 
day  after  the  "  Celtic  "  arrived  they  started  with 
five  Italian  workmen;  the  next  day  they  had 
thirty;  by  the  end  of  the  fourth  week  Belknap 
employed  five  hundred  Sicilian  and  Calabrian 
workmen  at  Messina  alone. 

As  they  arrive,  each  man  is  given  his  tools 
and  his  number  is  recorded.  The  boys  come 
eating  crusts  of  bread,  sleepy-eyed  and  inclined 
to  take  time  to  finish  their  scanty  meal.  The 
men  saunter  leisurely  to  their  work,  smoking 
their  pipes.  The  voice  of  the  great  '*  boss 
carpenter  "  is  heard  here,  there,  everywhere: 

'*  Get  to  work,   darn  ye!     It's  past  seven 
252 


-*3^is|^-^'-"-'':'"- 


c^'- 


^r^Mi-^-'.rLi: 


MESSINA.     ARRIVAL  OF  FURNITURE  FOR  AMERICAN  COTTAGES. 
Page  24  S. 


AMERICAN  VILLAGE.  MESSINA.    VIA  BICKNELL, 
FIRST  STREET.     Page  238. 


AMERICAN  CAMP,  MESSINA.     STRAGGLERS  FROM  THE  HERD.     Page 251. 


IN  THE  AMERICAN  VILLAGE,  MESSINA.     Page 257. 


THE   CAMP  BY  TORRENTE   ZAERA 

o'clock.  Al  lavoi'o,  at  lavorol  Don't  you  talk 
your  Eyetalian  to  me!  '* 

So  the  gangs  are  hectored  and  herded  to  their 
Work.  Soon  both  admonition  and  expostulation 
are  drowned  in  the  song  of  the  saw  and  plane, 
in  the  good  chorus  of  the  hammer.  The  Anvil 
Chorus  seems  tame  when  one  has  listened  to 
this  glorious  music  after  the  dreadful  silence 
of  Messina,  where  the  dead  still  lie  in  tens  of 
thousands,  buried  only  in  the  debris  of  their 
houses. 

Brofferio  had  hunted  up  Zenobia,  his  washer- 
woman (she  lived  in  the  country),  and  found 
her  alive  and  well,  having  escaped  all  damage 
to  house  or  property  from  the  earthquake. 
She  was  overjoyed  to  see  him,  and  early  that 
first  morning  she  arrived  at  the  camp  for  his 
linen.  Like  the  good  fellow  he  is,  Brofferio 
shared  his  good  fortune  with  the  rest,  and 
Zenobia  agreed  to  do  the  washing  for  his 
friends.  She  took  away  all  she  could  carry  on 
her  head  and  came  back  for  more,  making 
several  trips  in  the  course  of  the  morning.  She 
brought  the  clothes  back  in  the  same  piecemeal 
fashion,  a  few  at  a  time. 

"  The    clothes    are    washed    in    a    mountain 
253 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND  IN  SUN 

stream,  beaten  between  two  stones,  and  dried  on 
the  grass.  They  come  back  the  sweetest  smell- 
ing things  in  Messina,"  writes  J.,  "  only  we  have 
to  wait  an  endless  time  for  them." 

One  morning  J.,  whose  house  was  next  Brof- 
ferio's,  heard  Zenobia  making  a  great  outcry: 

"  Signor  Comandante!  "  she  exclaimed. 
"  Have  mercy  on  me;  I  am  not  strong.  I  live 
five  kilometres  distant  —  the  walk  is  long,  the 
path  is  a  scandal,  the  sun  is  hot.  I  have  brought 
an  immense  load.  Madonna  Santa!  larger  no 
woman  could  carry!  " 

"  Thou  art  avaricious,"  said  BrofFerio  sternly, 
"  which  is  shameful,  considering  thou  art  making 
more  money  than  any  woman  in  Messina.  Dost 
thou  grudge  the  soldi  to  hire  an  asino?  Basta! 
Either  take  the  linen  properly  all  at  once  and 
return  it  in  the  same  manner,  or  come  no  more. 
There  is  always  the  grandmother  of  Gas- 
perone  —  " 

*'  It  is  enough;  the  Signor  Comandante 
shall  be  obeyed  —  ten  donkeys,  if  it  will  appease 
him!" 

Zenobia  departed  and  returned  later  with  the 
balance  of  the  linen,  nicely  packed  on  the  back 

of  a  tiny  donkey.    This  plan  worked  admirably 

254 


THE   CAMP  BY  TORRENTE   ZAERA 

until  the  day  of  reckoning  came,  and  Zenobia's 
neighbor,  Sor  Pietro,  a  poor  old  half-crazed 
peasant,  who  had  not  recovered  his  wits  since 
the  earthquake,  presented  a  bill  for  the  use  of 
the  donkey.  Zenobia,  a  queenly  creature,  — 
she  looked  her  name,  —  had  commandeered  the 
beast  and  refused  to  pay  for  the  use  of  it. 

"  She  assured  us,  illustrious  Comandante," 
said  Sor  Pietro,  weeping  pitifully,  "  that  the 
Government  required  the  animal  —  I  myself 
dug  him  out  of  the  ruin  a  week  after  the  earth- 
quake —  for  the  use  of  the  Americans.  I  said 
I  will  go  myself  and  hear  the  truth!  " 

Meanwhile  Zenobia  and  the  donkey  arrived 
on  the  field  of  battle. 

"  Would    the    Sor    Comandante    know  the 

truth.^  "      Zenobia    shot    a    basilisk    glance    at 

Pietro.     "  The  animal  was  not  being  used.    Sor 

Pietro  himself  said  it  was  too  miserably  weak 

to  draw  the  jilough.     He  had  no  use  for  him, 

nor  will  have  till  it  is  time  to  gather  his  lemons 

and  take  them  to  the  Marina.    Should  he  deny 

this  poor  miserable  brute  when  my  officers,  the 

magnanimous,  the  Heaven-sent,  demand  such  an 

animal.'*      He  deserves  to  die  of  an  apoplexy!  " 

At  this  moment  an  orderly  brought  a  letter 

255 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND   IN   SUN 

to  Brofferio.  As  he  turned  to  read  it,  Zenobia 
sprang  like  a  panther  at  Pietro,  caught  him  by 
the  shoulder,  shook  him  like  a  sack,  and  hissed 
in  his  deaf  ear: 

"  Ingrate,  cabbage  head,  hangman!  " 

'*  You  have  received  a  very  large  sum  of 
money  this  morning,"  said  Brofferio,  folding 
up  his  letter,  "  fully  fifteen  francs.  Do  me  the 
favor  to  pay  this  man  five  sous.  How  many 
times  hath  she  borrowed  the  asino?  Five  sous 
for  each  trip.    Now  then!" 

Zenobia  produced  a  soiled  and  knotted  hand- 
kerchief from  her  stocking  and  counted  the 
money  unwillingly  into  Pietro's  seamy  brown 
palm. 

"  Now  I  wonder,"  said  Brofferio,  as  the  pair 
walked  amicably  away  together,  *'  if  that 
comedy  was  all  arranged  beforehand  .^^  " 

The  early  days  at  Mosella  recall  the  descrip- 
tion of  the  building  of  Carthage.  The  busy 
master-carpenters,  each  with  his  foot-rule  in 
his  pocket,  his  blue  pencil  behind  his  ear,  move 
about  among  the  gangs  of  Sicilian  laborers. 
One  measures  out  on  the  bare  ground  the  place 

where  the  timbers  that  form  the  sills  of  the  next 

256 


THE   CAMP  BY  TORRENTE   ZAERA 

house  shall  be  laid;  another  directs  the  driver 
of  a  heavy  ox -team,  drawn  by  a  pair  of  sturdy 
red  steers,  where  to  discharge  a  load  of  fragrant 
new  cut  pine  boards. 

At  noon  work  comes  to  a  halt.  Francesco 
taps  at  the  office  door  and  announces: 

"  Dinny  ready.  Mister!  "  Francesco  is  a 
Sicilian  of  the  Greek  type,  straight  as  a  lance, 
with  a  fine  head,  thick  curling  hair  and  eyes  of 
gray  sapphire.  He  escaped  unhurt  from  his 
house  the  morning  after  the  earthquake,  after 
Ij^ing  for  hours  under  the  ruins. 

At  dinner  Belknap  sits  at  the  head  of  the 
long  table;  on  his  right  is  Brofferio.  Then 
seated  in  the  order  of  their  rank  come  the  offi- 
cers, the  "  architect,"  as  they  call  J.,  and  the 
master-carpenters.  The  table  is  laid  with  neat- 
ness —  for  a  camp,  with  elegance.  There  is  a 
white  table-cloth  with  napkins,  borrowed  from 
the  "  Celtic;  "  at  either  end  stands  a  bowl  filled 
with  pale  quince  blossoms,  wreathed  with  ivy  — 
winding  ivy  besprent  with  purple  berries,  the 
kind  that  twined  the  bacchantes*  thyrsus. 
This  is  Gasperone's  idea,  the  touch  of  the 
aesthetic,  the  legacy  of  Hellas,  that  every  day 

and  every  hour  you  see  in  Sicily,  that  makes 

257 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND   IN   SUN 

this  land  and  its  people  rich  in  grace  beyond 
all  others. 

"  Them  flowers  looks  kinder  pretty,"  said 
Timothy,  the  carpenter.  He  made  a  mental 
note  to  write  his  wife  about  Gasperone's  decora- 
tion of  the  "  mess  "  table. 

Francesco  and  Gasperone,  the  Sicilian  serv- 
ants, have  a  third  helper,  Mr.  Buchanan's 
*'  boy,"  a  magnificent  negro.  This  full-blooded 
African  giant  stands  six-feet-two;  he  is  broad 
of  shoulder,  narrow  of  hip,  with  teeth  like  new- 
peeled  almonds  and  eyes  like  the  big  Sicilian 
oxen.  He  has  the  same  pictorial  "  value  "  as 
the  blacks  Paul  Veronese  painted  in  his  Venetian 
feasts. 

Dinner  begins  with  a  loin  of  good  roast 
American  pork  from  the  "  Celtic's  "  store.  The 
big  negro  offers  a  dish  to  go  with  the  pork, 
whispering  in  a  gentle  lisp: 

**  Apple  thause,  thir.^*  " 

After  dinner  there  is  a  short  pause;  work 
only  begins  again  at  one  o'clock.  Pipes  are 
lighted;  in  Flagstaff  Square  the  sailors  have  a 
game  of  baseball,  watched  and  cheered  by  a 
delighted  crowd  of  Messinesi.     Work  is  over 

for  the  men  at  halfpast   five,  for  the   masters 

258 


MESSINA.     QUITTING  WORK.     Page  258. 


AF<:RIVAL  OF  THE  BARBER.     Page  265. 


THE   CAMP  BY  TORRENTE   ZAERA 

only  at  bedtime.  There  is  no  theatre,  no  place 
of  amusement,  not  even  a  cinematograph  in 
Messina.  At  sunset  the  young  sailors,  who 
have  worked  all  day  and  are  not  yet  tired, 
wrestle  and  box  together,  for  the  lust  of  life 
that  is  in  them.  A  crowd  of  men  and  boys 
gathers  to  watch  and  applaud;  if  the  sounds  of 
labor  are  welcome  in  this  silent  city,^  the  joyous 
sounds  of  play  are  twice  welcome.  Between 
nine  and  ten  J.,  who  works  in  a  little  cubby-hole 
shut  off  from  the  captain's  office,  is  ready  to 
turn  in.  He  has  stood  all  day  at  his  drawing- 
board,  making  the  plans  as  fast  —  or  almost  — 
as  Belknap  asks  for  them.  His  bed  is  "  de- 
lightfully comfortable;  "  the  "  spring  "  is  given 
by  nailing  the  planks  at  one  end  of  the  bunk 
and  leaving  them  free  at  the  other,  so  that  they 
have  some  play;  mattress  and  pillow  are  of 
good  sweet  seaweed. 

"  Last  night  was  chilly,"  he  WTites,  "  but 
thanks  to  the  traveling  rug,  in  addition  to 
two  blankets  and  Hooper's  coat,  I  was  quite 
warm.  I  got  the  tip  from  a  native  that  the 
nights  were  cold  and  passed  on  mj^  acquired 
knowledge,  but  it  was  unheeded  by  the  others, 

who  got  left.     I  knew  I  should  be  too  sleepy 

259 


SICILY  IN   SHADOW  AND   IN   SUN 

to  put  the  extra  things  on,  so  I  plumped  them 
all  on  before  I  went  to  sleep.  Tonight  we  are 
going  to  be  supplied  with  extra  blankets.  It's 
now  a  little  after  one  o'clock  and  the  heat  is 
quite  uncomfortable;  it  seems  stupid  to  be 
talking  of  blankets." 

By  ten  all  lights  are  out  except  Belknap's, 
always  the  last.  Every  night  he  knots  up  the 
business  of  the  past  day;  makes  each  record, 
answers  all  letters,  plans  out  the  next  morning's 
work.  When  he  is  not  at  work  elsewhere,  the 
Chief  sits  in  Jiis  office  writing  those  endless 
despatches,  letters,  reports,  that  are  not  the 
easiest  part  of  his  prodigious  labor.  Read  them 
over  now:  it  seems  impossible  that  the  man, 
who  carried  on  this  minute  detailed  corres- 
pondence, could  have  found  time  for  anything 
else.  You  feel  the  character  of  the  writer  in 
every  page;  the  will  of  iron,  the  heart  of  a 
child,  the  training  of  a  sailor  who,  in  order  to 
command,  learned  first  to  obey.  Nowhere  in 
all  this  mass  of  letters  and  reports  will  you  find 
Belknap  "  posing  "  before  his  correspondent  or 
that  imaginary  audience,  the  world,  that  may 
always  get  a  sight  of  such  documents;  every- 
where, with  a  skill  not  born  of  chance,  whenever 

260 


THE  CAMP  BY  TORRENTE  ZAERA 

he  can  "  throw  the  limelight  "  on  one  of  his  men, 
he  does  so  with  a  generous  hand.  Belknap  is 
one  of  those  natural  leaders  of  men,  who  seem 
providentially  to  arise  in  great  emergencies. 
His  tireless  energy,  his  cheerful  courage  are 
positively  infectious;  his  example  and  influence 
are  felt  in  every  phase  of  the  enterprise  of  which 
he  was  the  leader. 

Just  what  was  his  work.^  To  bring  order  out 
of  chaos.  Men  are  the  instruments  of  mankind; 
the  race  chooses  the  individual  to  carry  out  its 
desires,  as  the  sculptor  his  tools.  The  nation, 
torn  by  a  sister's  anguish,  acted  first  with  the 
heart  of  Roosevelt,  second  with  the  mind  of 
Griscom,  third  with  the  will  of  Belknap;  these 
three  men  were  the  triumvirate  who  put  through 
the  imperial  thing  America  desired.  The 
records  of  a  man  of  action  are  brief;  for  him  it 
is  the  doing  that  delights,  not  the  telling;  and 
yet  in  reading  over  Belknap's  report  one  comes, 
now  and  again,  upon  a  pearl  of  pathos,  a  dia- 
mond of  humor,  that  makes  the  formal  docu- 
ment a  precious  thing,  that  makes  the  camp  by 
the  Torrente  Zaera  one  of  those  that  will  not 
be  forgotten. 

In  these  early  days  ten  American  carpenters 

261 


SICILY  IN   SHADOW  AND  IN  SUN 

superintended  the  Italian  workmen  (later  there 
were  more).  These  skilled  mechanics  drilled 
and  trained  their  men  with  care  and  energy, 
for  among  other  things  the  camp  by  the  Tor- 
rente  Zaera  was  a  school  of  carpentry.  Perhaps 
five  per  cent,  of  the  Italians  were  really  fair 
workmen;  the  majority  were  careless  and 
slovenly  at  their  craft.  Many  of  them  had 
never  worked  at  anything,  let  alone  carpentry. 
The  houses  they  built  were  the  least  part  of 
our  carpenters'  good  work;  they  established  a 
standard  of  excellence  unknown  hitherto  in  a 
community  where,  though  the  good  St.  Joseph 
is  honored,  his  trade  is  sadly  slighted. 

The  carpenters  and  sailors,  as  such  men 
will,  brought  their  own  manners,  their  point  of 
view  with  them  and  stoutly  maintained  them. 
They  were  strong,  tough -fibred  men,  more 
inclined  to  teach  than  to  learn  from  their  strange 
experience.  The  first  Sunday  afternoon  Tim- 
othy and  Hugh  went  out  together  for  a  stroll 
in  the  country.  They  met  a  Sicilian  riding 
a  donkey;  he  was  followed  by  an  old  woman 
whom  they  guessed  to  be  his  grandmother, 
carrying  on  her  head  a  large  box  and  a  small  keg. 

*'  See  that  big  man,  so  proud  looking,  with 

262 


THE   CAMP  BY  TORRENTE   ZAERA 

those  two  baskets  of  lemons  loaded  on  to  that 
poor  jackass's  back;  his  little  legs  are  bending 
under  him,"  said  Timothy. 

"  Such  treatment  as  they  give  the  jackass 
should  not  be  allowed,"  Hugh  agreed.  "  The 
Italians  certainly  are  a  hard  lot." 

"  It's  Gasperone!  "  cried  Timothy. 

"  Hullo  you!  "  roared  Hugh.  "  Get  right  off 
that  donkey  and  let  the  old  lady  ride;  do  you 
hear.f^  " 

Hugh,  a  blond  giant,  in  a  white  linen  jumper 
and  breeches,  white  canvas  cap  and  puttees, 
black  shoes  and  neckerchief,  impressed  the  grand- 
mother of  Gasperone.  She  stopped  and  stood 
staring  at  him,  her  skinny  arms  akimbo,  her 
feet  firmly  planted  in  the  road.  He  was  pleasant 
to  look  at,  this  strange  man  from  the  north, 
with  his  frank  blue  eyes,  his  yellow  hair,  his 
rough  kindly  voice.  She  was  not  too  old  (what 
woman  is.'')  to  take  notice  of  a  handsome  young 
man. 

"  Get  down!  "  ordered  Hugh. 

"  Awe  ri',  awe  ri',"  Gasperone  answered  sooth- 
ingly, then  said  something  to  the  old  woman. 
She  laid  her  load  down  and,  laughing  heartily, 

seated  herself  on  the  donkey. 

263 


SICILY   IN   SHADOW   AND  IN   SUN 

'*  Now  make  a  beast  o'  burthen  o'  your  fat  self, 
and  see  how  you  like  it,"  Hugh  commanded. 

"  Awe  ri'!  "  Gasperone  took  upon  his  back, 
awkwardly  enough,  the  load  his  grandmother 
had  so  skilfully  balanced  on  her  head.  The 
two  Americans  watched  the  couple  out  of 
sight  round  the  corner.  Brofferio,  who  saw 
the  whole  scene  from  the  launch  —  he  was  on 
his  way  to  the  Italian  warship,  "Dandolo"  — 
declares  that  as  soon  as  they  were  out  of  sight 
the  grandmother  dismounted  and  Gasperone 
returned  to  the  donkey's  back. 

The  '*  Hern  "  was  the  second  timber  ship  to 
arrive.  Her  Norwegian  captain's  wife  was  on 
board;  Captain  Belknap  mentions  her  presence 
as  if  it  were  a  fortunate  and  happy  thing. 

"  When  I  beheld  a  most  beautiful  young  lady 
in  a  boat  making  for  the  shore,"  Timothy  was 
heard  confiding  to  Hugh,  "  blushing  like  a  June 
morning  in  Indiana,  I  went  and  got  a  hair-cut 
and  a  shave." 

"  She  certainly  is  a  charming  person,"  Hugh 
agreed;  ''  goodness  is  shining  from  her  eyes." 

**  They  tell    over    to    the   '  Hern  '  that  she 

came  on  board  at  Algiers,  and  that  the  captain 

has  been  like  a  boy  with  a  new  sled  ever  since," 

264 


THE   CAMP  BY  TORRENTE  ZAERA 

Timothy    continued,  "  which    strengthens    my 
belief  in  the  captain's  wife's  goodness." 

One  of  the  Sicilians,  who  had  applied  for 
work  as  a  carpenter  and  proved  utterly  unfit 
for  it,  had  now,  with  Belknap's  encouragement, 
set  up  a  barber's  saloon  close  to  the  camp. 
After  the  "  Hern's  "  arrival  he  was  much 
patronized. 

The  "  Hern  "  was  ordered  directly  to  Reggio, 
where  a  second  camp  had  been  established 
under  the  command  of  Ensign  Wilcox.  This 
camp,  while  smaller  than  that  at  Messina,  was 
admirably  managed  from  the  first.  One  morn- 
ing, while  the  "  Hern  "  was  discharging  her 
cargo,  Wilcox  was  waked  at  half  past  five  by 
the  news  that  a  big  pontoon,  their  only  lighter, 
that  had  been  loaded  the  night  before,  was 
sinking.  Wilcox  plunged  overboard  with  a 
line,  hoping  to  get  it  made  fast  ashore  and 
then  beach  the  pontoon  before  it  sank;  but  as 
he  reached  the  shore,  the  lighter  went  down  with 
a  final  gurgle,  carrying  with  it  half  their  nails, 
glass  and  roofing  paper.  The  boards,  doors  and 
other  light  material  went  floating  about  the 
harbor,  and  as  in  Reggio  there  be  land  thieves 

as  well  as  water  thieves  there  was  a  lively  time 

265 


SICILY  IN   SHADOW  AND   IN   SUN 

guarding  the  floating  property.  Wilcox  was 
fortunate  in  finding  a  diver,  who  undertook  to 
dive  for  the  precious  nails  and  the  other  heavy 
things  that  had  sunk  to  the  bottom  of  the 
harbor.  Timothy,  who  had  been  ordered  to 
Reggio,  was  deeply  moved  by  the  accident. 
He  used  every  effort  to  hurry  the  diver  to  his 
work,  but  for  some  inexplicable  reason  the  man 
kept  putting  it  off. 

"  I  have  been  trying  to  get  that  diver  started," 
Timothy  complained.  "  He  can't  talk  English 
but  I  finally  found  out  he  would  not  go  down 
while  it  rains.  I  thought  that  strange  but  found 
out  the  reason  at  last;  he  is  afraid  to  go  down 
lest  the  man  pumping  would  stojp  if  a  heavy 
shower  comes  on  and  let  him  die  for  want  of  air. 

"  The  river  pirates  is  thick  as  fleas,"  Timothy 
went  on;  "  they  are  lifting  every  thing  in  sight." 

The  "  river  pirates  "  got  away  with  very 
little,  however,  as  they  were  pursued  and  forced 
to  bring  back  the  stolen  articles. 

Timothy  was  anxious  that  the  Reggio  camp 
should  lack  nothing  the  Messina  camp  pos- 
sessed ;  he  had  a  great  deal  to  say  to  Hugh  on  the 
subject  whenever  they  met. 

"  It's  a  treat  to  see  the  Stars  and  Stripes 
266 


WORKSHOP  OF  AMERICAN  VILLAGE.  RECGIO.     Page  265. 


\M  ^ 


FIRST  AMERICAN  HOUSE  IN  RECGIO.     Page  265. 


PALMI.    AMERICAN  SHELTERS.     Page  275. 


REGGIO.     CARPENTERS  AT  WORK.     Page265. 


THE   CAMP  BY  TORRENTE   ZAERA 

floating  here,"  he  said  to  Hugh.  "  I  want  Wil- 
cox to  fly  them  at  Reggio  but  he  darsen't  with- 
out orders.    What's  the  captain's  notion.^  " 

"  Why,  we  was  the  first  to  hoist  our  flag  the 
day  we  come  ashore,"  said  Hugh.  "  After  that 
all  the  other  people,  English,  Swiss,  French, 
Germans,  had  to  hoist  their  banners,  all  over 
the  shop,  till  now  the  place  looks  like  a  blooming 
world's  fair." 

Or  like  a  camp  of  latter-day  crusaders,  Hugh ! 

"  I  think  we  should  have  our  own  colors,  all 
the  same,"  Timothy  persisted.  "  If  the  '  boss ' 
goes  away,  I  will  send  them  up  if  I  swing  for 
it.  Besides,  it  will  create  respect.  Our  men 
have  had  to  wait  a  day  for  their  pay.  I  hope 
they  get  it  tonight.  Last  evening  to  hear  them 
roaring  you  would  think  Old  Tilley,  the  pig 
killer,  was  back  in  life!  " 

*'  Time  to  haul  her  down,"  Hugh  looked  to 
the  west. 

It  was  sundown.  The  bugler  sounded  atten- 
tion, the  men  all  stood  in  line,  facing  the  flag. 
The  bugler  played  the  salute  to  the  colors,  and 
just  as  the  red  ball  dropped  behind  the  blue 
ridge  of  mountains,  Hugh  slowly,  slowly  hauled 

down  the  flag. 

267 


SICILY   IN  SHADOW  AND   IN   SUN 

"  That,"  said  one   who  watched   the  pretty 
ceremony,   "  is  a  survival  of  sun  worship." 

"  Mithras,  God  of  the  Sunset,  low  on  the  Western  main, 
Thou  descending  immortal,  immortal  to  rise  again! 
Now  when  the  watch  is  ended,  now  when  the  wine  is 

drawn, 
Mithras,  also  a  soldier,  keep  us  pure  till  the  dawn!" 

(Kipling.) 


268 


IX 
GUESTS  AT  CAMP 

"  Mithras,  God  of  the  Midnight,  here  where  the  great  bull 

lies, 
Look  on  thy  children  in  darkness.    Oh  take  our  sacrifice ! 
Many  roads  Thou  hast  fashioned;    all  of  them  lead  to 

the  Light, 
Mithras,  also  a  soldier,  teach  us  to  die  aright!  " 

(Kipling.) 

About  the  time  the  lighter  sank,  I  received 
a  letter  from  the  camp,  asking  for  a  man  who 
spoke  English,  had  some  knowledge  of  ac- 
counts —  a  man,  in  fine,  like  Thompson  — 
who  would  come  to  Messina.  Belknap  was 
shorthanded;  the  work  was  doubling  up  on 
them.  Was  there  any  chance  of  that  nice  boy, 
Flint?  Would  Thompson  possibly  reconsider.'* 
Thompson  could  not;   Flint  was  in  Egypt. 

I  remember  well  the  day  the  letter  came,  if 

not  the  date.     I  was  in  Florence,  spending  a 

few  happy  hours  by  the  Arno,  in  the  shadow  of 

the  Giglio,  Giotto's  perfect  tower,  second  among 

towers  only  to  the  Giralda  of  Seville.     There 

269 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND  IN   SUN 

had  been  a  wonderful  jaunt  from  Rome  in  an 
automobile,  that  reminded  me  of  my  mother's 
stories  of  her  wedding  journey  through  Italy 
in  a  traveling  carriage.  The  motor  has  brought 
back  the  romance  to  travel,  that  seemed 
banished  forever  when  the  last  vetturino  sold 
his  traveling  carriage,  driven  out  of  business 
by  the  railroad. 

We  four  —  Mr.  Parrish  the  host,  Miss  Helen 
Lee,  his  niece,  Charles,  the  Yankee  chauffeur, 
and  I  —  had  passed  through  Umbria,  Tuscany, 
visited  Perugia  and  Gubbio,  stopped  at  Assisi 
and  Siena,  looked  at  the  gem,  San  Gimignano  — 
but  that's  another  story. 

That  golden  day  in  Florence  we  hunted  up 

our  old  friend,   George  de  Forrest  Brush,  the 

painter,  corralled  him  in  his  studio  and  carried 

him   off  willy-nilly   to  lunch   at  the  Trattoria 

Aurora  on  the  heights  of  Fiesole.     It  was  too 

cold  to  eat  in  the  garden,  so  after  a  long  look 

at    the    blue    Val    d'Arno    with    its    encircling 

mountains,  the  Carraras  and  the  Apennines,  we 

went  into   the   bare  little   dining-room.     Soon 

the  two  specialties  of  the  inn  smoked  on  the 

table,  a  dish  of   chicken   cooked   with  red  and 

yellow    peppers  —  the    sauce    would    make    an 

270 


GUESTS  AT  CAMP 

anchorite  greedy  —  and  whole  artichokes  fried 
to  a  golden  brown,  served  with  melted  butter. 
For  those  who  wanted  it,  there  was  a  flask  of 
good  red  Chianti  di  Broglio;  for  all  there  was 
the  rarer  wine  of  friendship. 

After  luncheon  we  started  in  the  automobile 
for  the  convent,  perched  on  a  hill  high  above 
Fiesole.  When  we  had  made  half  the  distance, 
we  passed  an  automobile  stuck  fast  in  the  mire. 
Soon  after  we  were  obliged  to  turn  back  on 
account  of  the  snow;  the  road  runs  in  spirals; 
some  of  the  turns  are  sharp,  a  true  mountain 
highway,  with  a  precipice  on  either  side.  Just 
as  we  turned  a  sharp  curve,  the  machine  came 
to  a  sudden  stop.  A  tree  trunk,  big  as  a  railroad 
sleeper,  lay  directly  in  our  path,  placed  across 
the  road  since  we  made  the  ascent. 

"A  close  call!"  muttered  the  chauffeur,  as 
he  put  on  the  brake  and  stopped  the  car.  If  he 
had  not  been  quick  as  a  flash,  we  should  have 
had  a  bad  accident.  Charles  next  sprang  from 
the  car,  dragged  the  log  to  the  edge  of  the  path 
and  hurled  it  do\sTi  the  mountainside. 

"  That  dago  will  have  a  little  trouble  to  tote 

you  up  again!  "  he  chuckled,  as  the  great  piece 

of  wood  hurtled  down  the  steep. 

271 


SICILY   IN   SHADOW  AND  IN   SUN 

'*  A  miss  is  as  good  as  a  mile,"  our  host  re- 
assured us. 

"  Such  wickedness  as  that  makes  me  sick," 
said  Charles,  as  he  twirled  the  steering  wheel 
and  set  the  car  in  motion.  We  were  all  silent 
for  the  next  mile  or  two. 

Which  of  us  was  it  meant  for.'^  Who  has  so 
cruel  an  enemy?  We  never  knew.  When  I 
read  lately  of  Mr.  Edward  Boit  and  his  brother 
being  "  held  up  "  and  robbed  near  Vallombrosa, 
not  very  far  from  Fiesole,  I  wondered  if  we 
had  escaped  the  same  band  of  brigands. 

"  Do  you  know  a  man  who  wants  to  go  down 
and  help  Captain  Belknap  at  Messina.^  "  I 
asked  Mr.  Brush,  as  we  sped  down  the  incline, 
leaving  Fiesole  behind,  past  the  Villa  Palmieri 
where  the  characters  of  Boccaccio's  Decamerone 
lived  during  the  great  plague  of  1348. 

"  My  son  Gerome  has  wanted  to  go  down  ever 
since  the  earthquake.  I  will  send  him  to  see 
you  tonight,"  said  the  artist. 

That  evening  Gerome  Brush  called  at  our 

hotel ;  it  was  agreed  that  I  should  write  Belknap, 

offering  his  services  in  whatever  capacity  he 

could  be  useful. 

"  I  am  in  the  automobile  business  now,"  the 
272 


GUESTS  AT   CAMP 

young  man  said,  "  but  that's  only  temporary. 
When  I  go  back  to  America  I  shall  study  law. 
I  have  been  trying  to  get  to  Sicily  all  winter; 
do  fix  it  up  for  me  I  " 

It  was  '*  fixed  up."  Belknap  telegraphed 
us  to  send  Brush,  and  we  all  returned  to 
Rome. 

"  Why  don't  you  end  up  your  trip  by  all 
coming  down  here.^  "  The  question  was  re- 
peated several  times  in  J.'s  letters.  As  a  result, 
on  the  24th  of  March,  Patsy,  Gerome  Brush 
and  I  left  Rome  for  Sicily.  We  traveled  as 
far  as  Naples  ^nth  Mr.  Parrish  and  his  niece, 
who  were  to  sail  in  a  few  days  for  home  and  could 
not  come  with  us.  The  trip  from  Rome  to 
Naples  was  a  pleasant  one,  though  the  spring 
was  very  backward.  Only  a  few  quince  and 
apricot  trees  were  in  blossom;  the  beautiful 
vineyards  were  still  dark,  ^^ithout  a  sign  of 
promise.  Hanging  from  tree  to  tree  in  the  old 
classic  fashion,  the  vines  made  a  lovely  pattern 
of  delicate  black  tracery  against  the  fervent 
blue  sky. 

At   Naples   we  regretfully  parted   with  Mr. 

Parrish  and  Miss  Lee.    Patsy  laid  in  a  stock  of 

sandwiches,    milk    chocolate    and    newspapers, 

273 


SICILY  IN   SHADOW  AND   IN   SUN 

and  we  set  our  faces  to  the  south,  prepared  for 
any  fate. 

Soon  after  leaving  Naples  our  train  broke 
down. 

"  E  rotto  il  Westing  house/*  the  guard  said  to 
each  separate  traveler  in  turn. 

"Look  at  Vesuvius,  or  what's  left  of  it!" 
cried  Patsy.  We  had  halted  within  sight  of 
the  great  volcano.  Patsy  had  not  seen  it  since 
the  eruption  of  1906,  when  one  of  the  twin  cones 
sanji  out  of  sight  and  the  whole  outline  of  the 
mountain  was  altered,  losing  much  of  its  dis- 
tinction. "  I  never  thought  to  see  the  ever- 
lasting hills  change  their  very  shape  before  my 
eyes  —  that  gives  you  an  idea  of  volcanic 
force!" 

On  the  25th  of  March  we  woke  to  a  wet  world. 
Through  the  blurred  windows  of  the  sleeping- 
car  we  looked  out  upon  emerald  fields  and 
fruit  orchards,  between  stretches  of  rough  un- 
cultivated land.  The  way  passed  through  lemon 
groves,  where  the  trees  were  covered  thick  with 
pale  gold  lemons,  the  air  was  sweet  with  the 
fragrance  of  their  blossoms;  through  vast  plan- 
tations   of    blue-green    cactus,    like    those    of 

Morocco;     through    orange   groves    where   the 

274 


GUESTS  AT   CAMP 

branches  bent  beneath  the  weight  of  red-gold 
fruit.  Everywhere  was  that  splendid  contrast 
of  the  red  and  yellow  golds,  mixed  with  the 
gorgeous  dark  green  foliage  of  the  nespoli,  whose 
fruit  ripens  much  later  —  now  there  were  only 
hard  little  green  balls  between  bunches  of  long 
graceful  leaves.  Here  and  there  the  green  was 
softened  by  rosy  peach  blossoms,  the  intenser 
pink  of  the  apricot,  or  the  queer  gray  sprawling 
limbs  of  fig  trees  covered  with  silvery  bloom, 
though  not  a  leaf  had  yet  unfolded. 

'*  How  can  we  be  such  fools  as  to  linger  in  a 
city  when  the  miracle  of  Spring  has  begun!  " 
Patsy  exclaimed;  we  all  agreed  never  again  to 
commit  that  folly  of  follies.  At  every  station 
we  passed  cars  loaded  with  piles  of  newly  sawed 
American  lumber,  shipped  from  Naples  and  dis- 
tributed at  various  points  on  the  Calabrian 
coast.  At  Palmi  we  saw  the  first  ruins.  Some 
little  wooden  huts  had  been  built  on  the  lower 
slopes  of  the  hill;  on  the  side-tracks  were 
rows  of  extra  railway  carriages,  turned  into 
shelters  for  the  poor  homeless  people.  It  had 
been  raining  desperately  until  we  reached 
Palmi,  where  fortunately  it  held  up  long  enough 

for  us  to  have  a  good  look  at  the  magnificent 

275 


SICILY   IN   SHADOW   AND   IN   SUN 

olive  trees,  the  finest  I  ever  saw.  A  whole 
forest  of  olives  goes  climbing  up  the  mountain- 
side, like  hoary  giants  with  wild  arms  tossed 
to  heaven.  The  trees  in  Dante's  Inferno,  that 
bled  when  their  limbs  were  broken,  must  have 
looked  like  these  ancient  olives  of  Palmi,  cen- 
turies old,  still  the  main  support  of  the  peasants 
on  whose  land  they  grow.  The  chestnuts  were 
as  fine  in  their  way,  sturdy  umbrageous  mon- 
archs  of  the  wood,  but  lacking  the  mystery 
that  above  all  other  trees  the  olive,  Athena's 
gift,  possesses. 

Patsy  had  an  errand  at  Bagnara.  From  the 
midst  of  a  group  of  sad,  listless  looking  women, 
who  stood  watching  our  train  as  if  it  were  the 
one  important  event  of  the  day,  a  tall  girl  in 
black  pushed  her  way  to  the  front.  There  must 
have  been  some  signal  agreed  upon;  how  else 
could  Patsy  have  found  the  sister  of  Sora  Clara 
the  moment  he  stepped  on  the  platform  at 
Bagnara?  They  talked  together  until  our 
train  started,  when  Patsy  slipped  something 
into  the  girl's  hand  and  sprang  into  the  car. 

"  Don't  report  me,"  he  said.  "  I  have 
turned  over  a  new  leaf;  I  don't  let  my  right 
hand    know  what   my  left   hand  does.     I  re- 


CAPTAIN  BELKNAP  AND  CARPENTER  FAUST  ON  GROUND  FLOOR 
OF  HOTEL.     Page  284. 


lERlCAN  VILLAGE.  MESSINA.    VIEW  FROM  THE  HOTEL,     fage  ::87. 


GUESTS  AT   CAMP 

ported  every  franc  I  gave  away  in  Rome,  till 
I  caught  on  to  what  it  meant.  My  poor  San- 
scrit professor  had  been  promised  substantial 
help.  I  reported  the  little  money  I  gave  him; 
after  that  he  got  nothing  more.  I  was  told 
never  to  give  a  single  family  more  than  fifty 
francs.  How's  a  man  who  has  lost  everything 
he  has  in  the  world  going  to  start  life  again  on 
ten  dollars.^  " 

The  situation  of  Bagnara  recalls  Amalfi; 
there  is  a  fine  smooth  beach,  where  the  fishing 
boats  are  drawn  up  on  the  shore.  The  nets  are 
spread  higher  up  on  the  sand.  Above  the 
lovely  scallop  of  shore  the  little  town  perches 
on  the  hillside.  At  Gioia  Tauro,  just  before 
Palmi,  the  semicircle  of  golden  beach  in  the 
shape  of  a  scimitar,  the  beryl  green  water, 
reminded  us  of  Tangiers. 

After  we  passed  Bagnara  the  train  went  very 
slowly. 

*'  At  this  rate  we  shall  never  reach  Taormina 
tonight,"  Patsy  complained. 

"  Pazienza,  Signorino  !  chi  va  piano  va  sano  I  " 
said  the  guard.  "  This  is  the  first  train  that  has 
gone  through  since  the  landslide."   This  was  the 

first  we  had  heard  of  a  landslide. 

277 


SICILY   IN   SHADOW    AND   IN   SUN 

**  A  mere  nothing,  only  the  rocks  came 
trundling  down  from  the  mountains  and  broke 
the  track  so  badly  that  no  trains  have  run  for 
the  past  month,"  the  guard  explained. 

"  Scylla!  "  We  must  have  been  dozing,  for 
we  all  started  when  the  guard  called  out  the 
name  of  the  station. 

"Look!" 

The  tremendous  rock  of  Scylla,  with  the 
strong  castle  on  the  top,  springs  from  the  sea 
like  a  great  many-toned  jewel  of  coral,  shading 
from  rose  to  yellow.  The  sun  shone,  the  wind 
blew  the  surf  in  great  green  and  white  surges 
against  the  cliff.  Further  out  the  water  was 
pale  emerald,  with  sudden  streaks  of  amethyst; 
everywhere  on  sea,  shore  and  cloud  lay  shadows 
of  sapphire. 

Even  Patsy  was  dumb,  moved  beyond  words 
by  that  glimpse. 

"  Their  Excellencies  saw  the  castle.''  "  chir- 
ruped the  friendly  guard.  *'  The  earthquake 
didn't  hurt  it,  more  than  to  crack  the  outer 
wall  a  trifle.  They  knew  how  to  build  in  those 
days!" 

"  The  castle  is  a  trumpery  medieval  afiPair," 

remarked  Patsy,  "  though  it  was  standing  when 

278 


GUESTS  AT   CAMP 

Robert  Guiscard  came  in  1060,  but  the  rock! 
In  the  Odyssey  it's  described  as  the  home  of 
a  roaring  sea  monster,  with  six  terrific  heads, 
twelve  deformed  feet,  and  three  rows  of  teeth. 
Look  over  there  —  the  Hghthouse !  That  marks 
the  whirlpool !  '  Incidit  in  Scyllam  qui  vult 
vitare  Charyhdis! 

Across  the  narrow  strait  lay  the  jewel  of  the 
south,  Sicily!  The  old  name,  Trinacria,  was 
given  to  the  island  on  account  of  its  shape,  an 
irregular  triangle  with  three  great  points  or 
promontories.  It  was  once  a  part  of  the 
Apennine  range,  but  in  some  volcanic  upheaval 
it  was  broken  off  —  as  a  monarch  breaks  a 
link  from  his  gold  chain  and  tosses  it  to  some 
henchman  —  and  thrown  into  the  Mediter- 
ranean, where  it  shines  a  brilliant  in  a  sapphire 
setting,  the  most  coveted,  the  most  disputed  of 
earth's  gems. 

Patsy  had  not  spoken  for  twenty  minutes. 
His  dancing  eyes  had  grown  grave  and  steady; 
the  imp,  the  sprite,  the  creature  of  impulse,  was 
gone;  in  his  place  was  a  stranger  with  grave 
eyes. 

*'  Villa  San  Giovanni,"  cried  the  guard.    "  II 

ferryboat  per  Messina." 

279 


SICILY  IN   SHADOW  AND   IN   SUN 

"  Ferryboat!  Sounds  familiar,"  said  Patsy. 
"  Tumble  out,  we're  here!  " 

As  Patsy  made  me  comfortable  on  one  of  the 
wooden  benches,  I  saw  a  familiar  face  that 
puzzled  me  in  the  crowd  of  passengers.  Where 
had  I  met  that  pale  girl  with  the  mouth  like  a 
scarlet  trumpet-creeper,  the  thin  curved  eye- 
brows like  a  crescent  moon,  the  deep  eyes  that 
looked  violet  in  the  distance  and  were  blue.^ 

"  I  know  her,"  I  said. 

"  She  doesn't  appear  to  know  you,"  Patsy 
murmured.  I  was  so  sure  I  knew  her  that  I 
began  to  burrow  in  my  memory,  searched 
pigeonhole  after  pigeonhole  to  find  just  where 
in  a  lifetime  of  impressions  that  arch  face  was 
tucked  away. 

"It's  Palladia!"  I  found  her  at  last.  "My 
milliner,  lost  to  us  in  Rome  for  three  painful 
years,  ever  since  she  went  to  Palermo  to  set  up 
for  herself." 

I  spoke  to  the  girl  without  more  ado: 

"  Palladia,  don't  you  remember  me?  " 

"  Perfectly,  Signora.  I  have  not  seen  you 
since  the  morning  I  brought  you  the  hat  with 
the  primole  for  Pasqua." 

"  And  you  would  not  have  spoken  to  me.^^  " 

280 


GUESTS  AT   CAMP 

"  Pardon  me,  Signora,  may  I  fasten  your 
veil?  I  feared  you  would  not  recall  me."  We 
were  shaking  hands  warmly  now;  she  was  my 
milliner  again,  I  her  client. 

"  If  I  bent  the  hat  a  little,  so?  That  is  more 
becoming." 

*'  You  have  done  well  in  Palermo?  " 

*'  Discreetly;  I  am  returning  from  Naples, 
where  I  have  been  to  buy  the  new  shapes,  look 
over  the  modes.  I  have  some  beautiful  French 
straw  —  if  the  Signora  should  come  to  Pa- 
lermo? " 

"  Of  course  I  shall  come,  just  to  get  one  of 
your  hats.  I  haven't  had  a  decent  one  since 
you  left  Rome."  Palladia  produced  her  card 
and,  w^ishing  each  other  buon  viaggio,  we  parted 
at  the  dock.  Palladia  to  take  the  train  for 
Palermo,  we  to  look  for  a  cab. 

"No  one  to  meet  us!  They  can't  have 
received  letter  or  telegram,"  said  Patsy.  "  Just 
as  well,  nothing  like  taking  our  friends  una- 
wares. Now  they  won't  have  time  to  smarten 
up  for  us." 

"Will  that  old  rabbit-hutch  hold  us  all?" 
I    asked,    looking    distrustfully    at    the    only 

vehicle  in   sight.     The  driver  understood;  he 

281 


SICILY  IN   SHADOW  AND   IN   SUN 

seized  the  wheel  of  the  battered  old  cab  and 
shook  it  violently  to  show  how  strong  it 
was. 

*'  This  is  a  most  excellent  and  signorial  car- 
riage, Signorino.  It  needs  paint;  why  should  it 
not?  I  dug  it  out  myself  from  the  ruins,  and 
the  horse  too.  That  blessed  animal  has  cost 
me  a  lot  of  fatigue.  It  was  nine  days  before  I 
could  get  him  out,  nine  days  sotto  le  macerie ! " 

"  How  much  to  the  Case  Americane.'*  "  asked 
Patsy. 

*'  Two  francs.  Excellency,  with  a  slight  token 
for  myself.  The  Comandante  himself  set 
the  price.  He  drives  with  no  other;  I  am  the 
official  coachman  of  the  Americans." 

For  a  horse  that  had  been  nine  days  buried, 
the  poor  little  rat  of  a  pony  drew  the  cab 
bravely  through  the  Via  San  Martino,  one 
smooth  lake  of  yellow  mud. 

'*  There's  Old  Glory!  "  shouted  Patsy. 

I  had  been  so  much  taken  up  with  looking 
back  at  the  desolate  streets,  at  the  Tell  Tale 
Tower,  I  did  not  know  we  had  arrived  at  camp. 
Two  Italian  soldiers,  on  guard  at  the  entrance, 
halted  the  cab. 

"  Stop,    thou    knowest    thou    canst    go    no 

282 


,.,    '>V. 


:i<^X^v, 


fe;^'  ^ 


i 


HOTEL  REGINA  ELENA  AND  CHURCH  OF  SANTA  CROCE. 
AMERICAN  VILLAGE.   MESSINA.     Page 284. 


GUESTS  AT  CAMP 

farther,"  said  the  elder,  evidently  a  friend  of  the 
driver's. 

"  What  dost  thou  say?  I,  who  drive  to  the 
door  of  the  barracks  four  times  every  day  at 
least !    Mayst  thou  die  of  an  accident !  " 

"  Never,  unless  there  is  an  officer  in  thy  cab. 
These  be  strangers,  without  a  written  pass  from 
the  Comandante;    they  cannot  enter!  " 

"  Archpriest,  I  say!  Mayst  thou  be  stricken 
with  — " 

"  Oh,  come  now,  officer,"  Patsy  interrupted 
persuasively,  "  you  will  not  make  the  lady  walk 
through  this  mud!  We  are  friends  of  the 
American  Comandante.     He  expects  us." 

The  soldier  was  firm;  we  could  not  pass. 

"  Peace,  I  will  inform  the  Sor  Comandante," 
said  a  new  voice.  It  was  Gasperone;  I  recog- 
nized him  from  J.'s  description.  He  put  his 
finger  to  his  lips  and  tapped  gently  at  the  door 
of  the  small  neat  wooden  cottage  nearest  the  flag. 

"  Behold  a  lady  and  two  gentlemen,  who  have 
driven  up  in  a  cab,"  said  Gasperone  through 
the  half-opened  door.  "  Shall  they  be  sent 
away  or  allowed  to  enter  the  camp.''  " 

J.,  standing  at  his  drawing-board,  looked  from 

the  window. 

283 


SICILY   IN   SHADOW   AND   IN   SUN 
**  Good  Lord,"    I  heard  him  cry,   "they've 


come 


Our  plan  was  to  spend  the  afternoon  at  the 
camp  and  push  on  that  night  to  Taormina,  an 
hour  and  a  half  distant  by  train.  Captain 
Belknap  received  us  most  kindly  and  showed 
us  about  the  camp.  What  had  been  accom- 
plished was  a  miracle;  the  place  had  already 
begun  to  look  like  a  neat,  well  laid  out  American 
village. 

"  We  save  every  tree  we  possibly  can,"  said 
Belknap.  "  Each  lemon  tree  brings  an  income 
of  at  least  ten  francs,  the  mulberries  even 
more." 

Belknap  and  J.  fought  hard  for  the  life  of 
every  tree  that  did  not  actually  interfere  with 
the  construction  of  the  buildings.  Some  of 
the  streets  have  long  lines  of  lemon  trees,  with 
here  and  there  a  fig  tree.  They  saved  a  double 
row  of  shade  trees,  for  which  the  guests  at 
Hotel  Regina  Elena  will  some  day  bless  them. 

As  we  were  inspecting  the  site  of  the  hotel, 
the  heavens  opened  and  the  flood  descended. 
We  hurried  to  the  office  for  shelter  and  admired 
the  trim   row  of   ledgers,   the  typewriter,   the 

letter  scales,  the  red,  white  and  blue  silk  cord 

284 


GUESTS  AT  CAMP 

that  Uncle  Sam  makes  for  his  own  special 
service,  all  the  tidy  paraphernalia  of  the  Chief's 
workroom.  I  peeped  into  the  drafting-room, 
partitioned  off  with  a  wooden  screen  from  the 
office.  It  looked  nice  and  professional,  with 
sheets  of  architect's  paper,  opaque  white,  semi- 
transparent  blue,  yellow  tracing,  compasses, 
T  squares,  all  sorts  of  fascinating  architectural 
tools.  On  the  wall  hung  the  neatly  drawn 
plans  of  the  hotel;  on  the  drawing-board  was 
the  ground  plan  for  the  Queen's  hospital  at 
Villaggio  Regina  Elena. 

"  May  we  look.^  "  Patsy  asked. 

"  If  you  will  not  touch,"  J.  glanced  up  from 
his  work.    "  Mind  that  India  ink!  " 

"  I  can't  let  you  go  on  to  Taormina  in  such  a 
tempest,"  said  Captain  Belknap.  "  If  you  will 
put  up  with  what  we  can  offer,  I  should  be  glad 
to  have  you  spend  the  night  at  the  camp." 
This  was  more  than  we  had  dared  hope  for; 
Patsy  was  in  the  seventh  heaven. 

'*  It's  a  reward  for  bringing  down  the  new 
recruit,"  he  whispered. 

Brush,  the  "  new  recruit,"  was  sent  almost 
immediately  to   Reggio,    where    Wilcox   found 

him  an  invaluable  assistant. 

285 


SICILY  IN   SHADOW  AND  IN  SUN 

I  was  shown  to  my  quarters  —  the  room  that 
had  been  Mr.  Bicknell's  —  in  a  small  frame 
house,  sixteen  by  sixteen.  It  was  divided  into 
two  rooms  by  a  wooden  partition  with  a  door; 
there  was  a  well  fitted  window  with  a  sash  cur- 
tain in  each  room.  Behind  the  house  was  the 
famous  kitchen,  of  which  we  had  heard  so 
much.  It  is  a  tiny  convenient  place  with  a 
cement  floor  and  walls,  a  stone  table  with  little 
holes  for  the  live  charcoal,  and  grates  to  go 
over  the  fire.  My  room  had  a  table,  chair, 
washstand  with  jug,  basin  and  pail.  Gasperone 
brought  me  hot  water  and  took  my  boots  and 
dress  to  brush.  In  the  corner  of  the  room  was  a 
most  ingenious  and  convenient  bed.  Some 
springy  boards  were  nailed  rather  loosely  to 
an  upright  head  and  footpiece;  the  boards  were 
almost  as  good  as  a  spring,  the  mattress  and 
pillow  of  sea-moss  were  comfortable  enough 
for  anybody,  not  born  in  Sybaris. 

I  sat  down  and  looked  out  of  the  window 

towards  the  tool  house,  the  center  of  interest 

for  the  moment.      The  men  had  knocked  off 

work,   and  were   passing  in  file,  very  slowly, 

before  the  open  window,  where  the  paymaster 

sat,  paying  each  man  what  was  due  him. 

286 


THE  FRONT  OF  THE  PALACE  HAD  FALLEN  INTO  A  HEAP 
OF  RUINS."     Page  305. 


SEMINARA.     CHURCH  OF  OUR  LADY  OF  THE  POOR. 


GUESTS  AT  CAMP 

After  our  long  journey,  our  harassing  drive 
through  ruined  Messina  —  where  the  reality 
surpassed  all  descriptions  —  the  exquisite  neat- 
ness, the  order,  the  comfort  of  the  Zona  Case 
Americane,  brought  a  sense  of  well-being  like 
oil  poured  on  a  burning  wound.  I  sat  for  an 
hour  in  that  fragrant  little  wooden  room,  while 
the  rain  drummed  with  soft  fingers  on  the  roof, 
and  went  over  the  history  of  our  journey  step 
by  step,  tested  link  by  link  the  chain  of  chance 
circumstances  that  had  drawn  young  Brush,  the 
new  recruit,  from  the  garage  in  Florence  to  the 
camp  by  the  Torrente  Zaera. 

The  manner  in  which  the  whole  American 
working  party  was  brought  together  is  well  illus- 
trated by  the  story.  If  Mr.  Parrish  had  not 
been  in  Florence,  if  he  had  not  hunted  up  Mr. 
Brush,  if  that  letter  from  camp  had  not  come 
the  day  we  lunched  at  the  Trattoria  Aurora, 
we  should  not  have  had  one  of  our  most  useful 
and  faithful  workers;  and  young  Brush  would 
have  missed  one  of  the  great  experiences  of  his 
life.  Mr.  Griscom  felt  that  one  of  his  practical 
difiiculties  was  that  all  the  help  he  could  hope 
for  must  be  drawn  from  the  American  colonies 

in    Italy,    the    Government     agents,    consuls, 

287 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND   IN  SUN 

artists  and  missionaries.  If  this  was  a  diflS- 
culty  —  which  I  question  —  the  way  it  was 
overcome  both  at  the  Embassy  and  the  camp 
was  magnificent.  Whatever  tool  he  had,  Bel- 
knap worked  with  and  found  it  a  good  tool.  It 
may  have  been  his  nature  —  he  is  the  kind  of 
workman  who  never  grumbles  at  his  tools  —  but 
the  character  of  the  helpers  surely  counted  for 
something.  Our  consuls  were  never  found  want- 
ing. Bayard  Cutting  from  Milan,  though  out  of 
health  at  the  time  of  the  earthquake,  went  down 
to  Messina  with  the  first  relief  party,  and  from 
that  time  on  he  was  faithful  to  the  great  work. 
Bishop  at  Palermo,  Crowninshield  at  Naples, 
Smith  at  Genoa,  did  magnificent  service,  work- 
ing day  and  night,  without  thought  of  sparing 
themselves.  The  spirit  of  the  officials  and  volun- 
teers was  almost  without  exception  altruistic. 
Every  man  was  trying  to  help  the  other  out; 
all  were  matched  in  the  great  race  for  service. 
Sailors,  consuls,  artists  and  missionaries  have 
something  in  common  surely;  it  was  just  that 
something  that  made  them  of  so  much  use. 
They  are  not  machines;  they  have  not  been 
warped  and  deformed  by  the  commercial  slavery 

that  is  sapping  the  life-blood  of  our  people. 

288 


GUESTS  AT  CAMP 

Mammon,  the  slave-driver,  may  crack  his  whip; 
it  does  not  frighten  them.  Their  time  is  not 
money,  it's  beyond  price,  so  they  spent  it  freely 
for  their  suffering  brothers  and  never  counted 
the  cost. 

J.  had  written  that  the  nights  were  cold.  I 
unpacked  my  hot-water  bottle  and  my  traveling 
rug;  I  was  just  on  the  point  of  calling  Gasperone 
to  fill  the  bottle,  w^hen  J.  looked  in.  His  eyes 
brightened  at  the  sight  of  the  rubber  bottle. 

*'  Are  you  going  to  use  this.'^  "  he  asked. 

"  Oh,  no!  I  always  travel  with  it,  in  case  of 
illness." 

"  If  you  are  sure,  I  will  have  it  filled;  Bel- 
knap's taken  cold.  You  brought  the  rug;  will 
you  need  it.'^  " 

"  No,  no!    There  are  plenty  of  blankets." 

"  You  think  so?  Then  I  will  take  this  for 
him.  Some  of  the  men  have  been  greedy  about 
blankets;  he  has  less  than  any  man  in  the 
camp." 

*'  Take  them,  take  them  of  course!  "    J.  went 

off  with  bottle  and  rug;   I  piled  every  garment 

I  had  with  me  on  my  sea-moss  bed  and  tucked 

myself  up  comfortably.    What  sort  of  man  was 

this  Chief  who  inspired  such  devotion? 

289 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND  IN  SUN 

It  must  have  been  after  midnight,  for  the 
cocks  were  crowing,  when  I  was  awakened  by 
the  sound  of  gunshots,  followed  by  loud  shouts 
and  the  noise  of  hurrying  footsteps.  I  listened, 
as  I  never  listened  before. 

In  the  distance  a  dog  bayed;  some  vagrant 
cur  had  escaped  in  spite  of  the  stringent  orders 
to  shoot  all  dogs  and  cats  on  sight.  The  flash 
of  a  lantern  next,  the  clank  of  a  sword-belt  as 
if  one  buckled  on  his  weapon  as  he  ran,  more 
footsteps,  at  first  light  and  hurrying,  then  slow 
and  heavy,  —  the  tread  of  men  who  carry  a 
burthen:  they  passed  the  door,  grew  faint, 
were  lost  in  the  silence  of  the  night.  Through 
the  upper  uncurtained  window-panes  the  hag- 
gard face  of  the  gibbous  moon  looked  from  an 
angry  sky. 

I  asked  at  breakfast  what  the  commotion 
had  been.  No  one  had  heard  the  noises  of  the 
night;  it  was  suggested  that  I  had  been  dream- 
ing. Months  after,  Patsy  told  me  what  had 
happened. 

"  You     remember    the    two     soldiers    who 

challenged    us    when    we    reached    the    camp.?^ 

They  had  to  keep  a  strict  watch  at  night  so 

that  the  building  materials  and  tools  should  not 

290 


GUESTS  AT  CAMP 

be  stolen.  The  soldier  on  duty  fell  asleep  at 
his  post.  He  was  wakened  suddenly  by  the 
steps  of  his  comrade,  come  to  relieve  him; 
before  he  was  fully  awake  he  caught  up  his 
gun  and  shot  the  poor  fellow,  who,  as  it  hap- 
pened, was  his  best  friend.  I  had  it  from  the 
cab-driver,  never  a  word  of  it  at  camp  of 
course!  '* 

That  morning  Patsy  hunted  up  the  Avvocato 
Bonanno,  and  through  him  made  several 
interesting  acquaintances.  He  lunched  with 
some  officers,  and  recognized  among  the  dishes 
served  certain  canned  meats  sent  out  from 
America  for  the  profughi. 

"  The    Sicilian    peasants    simply    won't     eat 

them;    they'd  rather  starve,"  Patsy  explained. 

"  The  only  thing  to  do  with  the  quantities  of 

tinned  food  we  sent  is  to  feed  it  to  the  army; 

they're  not  so  particular.     Another  time  when 

we  want  to  help  such  people  in  a  plight  like  this, 

we  should  send  flour  and  corn-meal  and  trust 

them  to  turn  them  into  macaroni  and  polenta, 

their  two   staples   of  life.     We're   so   fond   of 

change,  so  keen  about  new  foods,  that  we  give 

old  standbys,  like  hominy  and  oatmeal,  new 

fancy  names  every  year,  just  to  sell  them.    An 

291 


SICILY  IN   SHADOW  AND  IN  SUN 

American  believes  something  new  is  better  than 
anything  old.  An  Italian  only  admits  a  thing 
good  that  has  been  so  proven  by  the  centuries. 
Have  you  room  in  your  bag  for  this.'^  "  Patsy 
handed  me  a  pound  package  of  Salada  Ceylon 
tea. 

"  Where  did  you  get  it?  " 

"  Bought  it!  We  sent  these  poor  devils  half 
a  cargo  of  tea!  They  did  not  know  what  on 
earth  it  was  good  for,  tried  to  smoke  it,  chew  it, 
use  it  as  snuff  —  no  go !  Finally  they  put  it 
on  sale;  now  foreigners  in  camp  and  on  ship- 
board can  buy  it  at  a  fair  price!  The  money 
is  put  into  coffee;  that  is  the  very  breath  of  life 
to  a  Sicilian." 


292 


THE  VILLAGGIO   REGINA   ELENA 

"  What  did  you  think  had  happened?  " 
Caterina  traced  a  cross  with  her  bare  brown 
toe  in  the  dusty  path  of  the  campo  santo: 
"  Per  Dio,  Signora,  we  thought  it  was  the  Day 
of  Judgment.  Mamma,  babbo  and  I  were 
dressed,  ready  to  go  to  work  —  we  hve  here, 
my  father  is  guardiauo.  My  two  brothers  were 
in  bed;  they  were  killed.  One  still  remains 
sotto  le  macerie  ;  there  is  no  waj^  to  get  the  body 
out.  After  the  28th  of  April  no  more  may  be 
moved  on  account  of  infection;  it  is  finished." 

Caterina,  daughter  of  the  porter  at  the  ceme- 
tery, a  lovely  girl  of  sixteen,  was  our  guide. 
Smiling,  she  welcomed  us,  standing  under  a 
sculptured  "  Genius  of  Grief." 

'*A  strange  guide  for  such  a  place !  "  said  Patsy. 
Strange    indeed!      Coffins    everywhere,    and 
babies  in  grandams'  arms  —  the  new  life  push- 
ing  aside   the   old,    as   the   green    oak    leaves 
come  out  beneath  the  brown. 

As  Caterina  led  the  way  up  the  sunny  slope, 

293^ 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND  IN  SUN 

between  cypresses  and  roses,  she  pointed  out 
the  tottering  and  broken  monuments;  the 
earthquake  had  wrought  strange  havoc  here. 
The  chapel  of  the  CavalHeri  di  Messina  with 
its  fine  Ionic  colonnade  was  a  ruin;  some  of 
the  tombs  were  wrenched  open. 

**  Perhaps  these  dead,  like  ourselves,  thought 
that  the  last  day  had  come,"  said  Caterina. 

A  wine  cart  loaded  with  casks  of  wine,  with  a 
coffin  lashed  at  the  back,  passed  us.  It  was 
followed  by  two  women  with  grim  set  faces  — 
no  tears,  they  were  all  shed  long  ago.  Caterina 
paused  by  the  grave  of  the  patriot,  La  Farina, 
picked  a  red  rose  and  handed  it  to  me  with  a 
shy  smile.  From  the  upper  terrace  we  looked 
down  on  a  plain,  furrowed  as  if  for  planting. 
A  long  line  of  men  were  digging  a  trench.  Piles 
of  plain  unmarked  wooden  boxes  —  there  must 
have  been  several  hundreds  -  -  were  stacked 
on  the  ground. 

"  These  might  be  packing  cases  for  dry-goods," 
said  Patsy.  *'  There's  not  the  faintest  suggestion 
of  the  human  form,  not  even  the  sloping  line  of 
the  shoulders,  to  show  what  they  are!  " 

"  Will  there  be  no  service,  no  benediction?  " 

I  asked  Caterina. 

294 


THE  VILLAGGIO  REGINA  ELENA 

"  God  has  already  given  them  benediction 
enough,"  she  replied. 

Messina  is  like  a  battle-field;  there  is  too 
much  haste  for  funeral  pomp;  nothing  remains 
to  be  done  but  get  the  poor  human  remains  out 
of  sight,  under  ground  as  soon  as  possible. 
From  time  to  time  the  Archbishop  visits  the 
campo  santOy  blesses  the  dead  en  masse,  and 
sprinkles  holy  water  on  the  long  brown  mounds. 

As  we  watched  the  men  delving  in  the  fosse, 
a  gay  little  painted  carretto  passed,  driven  by 
a  blond  lad  with  a  roguish  face  and  a  rose 
behind  his  ear.  He  sat  upon  two  coffins,  whis- 
tling merrily. 

"  Buon  giorno,  Caterina;  what  a  fine  day, 
if  the  sun  would  only  stay!"  He  flourished 
his  whip  and  flicked  a  fly  off  the  mule's  ear. 

Caterina  looked  at  him  adoringly  and  echoed 
his  wish: 

"  Perhaps  the  rains  are  over,"  she  said. 
**  Thou  art  well,  Carlino.'^  " 

While  they  talked  about  the  weather,  their 

eyes  also  spoke  of  secrets  unspeakable.    It  was 

easy  to  see  how  things  stood  between  them.    In 

that  dreadful  indescribable  atmosphere,  hazel 

eyes  caught  fire  from  blue.    Death  had  become 

295 


SICILY   IN   SHADOW   AND   IN   SUN 

a  commonplace  to  the  lover  and  his  lass;  after 
so  many  months  of  familiarity  they  had  grown 
callous  to  its  ugliness.  In  the  meeting  of  their 
eyes,  life  laughed  at  death. 

In  the  upper,  more  aristocratic  part  of  the 
campo  santo,  the  dead  lay  in  separate  graves. 
Caterina  stopped  near  two  grave-diggers  at 
work. 

"  Two  metres  deep,"  she  said  sagely. 

A    pair  of  stone-masons  were  working  here, 

directed  by  a  tall  eagle-faced  man  and  a  youth, 

evidently  his   son.     One  mason  marked  on   a 

small   white   headstone   letters   and   a   date   in 

black;    then  with  a  chisel,  which  he  knocked 

only  with  his  hand,  chipped  out  the  letters  from 

the  stone.     It  must  have  been  soft  as  cheese, 

for  by  the  time  the  grave  was  a  metre  deep,  the 

name  Domenica  was  neatly  carved.    The  second 

mason  was  smoothing  a  little  white  cross  that 

had  been  roughed  out  of  the  same  soft  stone. 

When  the  grave  was  two  metres  deep,  cross  and 

headstone  were  ready.    The  plain  wooden  coffin 

had  a  rude  cross  nailed  on  the  lid.    Without  a 

flower  or  a  tear,  it  was  lowered  into  the  grave 

and  the  earth  filled  in. 

**  Thou  hast  done  well  and  quickly,"  said  the 
296 


THE   VILLAGGIO   REGINA   ELENA 

gentleman  to  the  elder  mason.  "  Here  is  the 
money  as  agreed." 

*'  The  others  the  Signore  spoke  oi?  " 

**  Gone  —  there  was  some  mistake.  We  have 
found  only  this,  the  youngest.  Perhaps  another 
has  buried  them,  thinking  them  his  own.  I 
return  to  Rome  tonight." 

Then  I  remembered:  this  was  the  man  I  had 
met  with  the  fair  young  woman  going  from  one 
survivor  to  another,  asking  for  news  of  Messina. 

An  Italian  officer  and  an  Englishman  passed, 
and  stood  looking  down  at  those  men  digging  in 
the  long  trench. 

"  What  do  you  advise.^  "  asked  the  officer. 
"  She  is  tormented;  here  is  her  last  letter. 
Nothing  will  satisfy  her  unless  I  find  him.  I 
have'  tried  every  way;  there  is  no  trace,  no 
record.  He  may  have  been  among  those  burned 
or  carried  out  to  sea  the  first  days;  he  may  be 
in  that  trench.     What  would  you  do.'^  " 

"  Find  him,"  said  the  Englishman,  "  or 
another  in  his  place,  and  put  up  a  stone  to  him. 
Then  she  can  have  a  place  to  lay  her  flowers 
and  to  weep;  it's  not  his  bones,  but  his 
memory  —  "    They  passed  out  of  earshot. 

We  moved  to  another  part  of  the  upper  ter- 

297 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND  IN  SUN 

race  and  watched  half  a  dozen  men  take  up  the 
flat  stone  covers  of  a  row  of  tombs,  sunk  under 
the  marble  pavement. 

'*  What  are  they  doing?  "  Patsy  asked. 

"  We  must  make  room  here,  there,  every- 
where, for  these  new  ones,"  Caterina  answered. 
"  No  one  could  have  expected  such  a  calamity; 
how  could  we  be  prepared  .^^  "  She  spoke  with 
the  anxiety  of  a  hostess,  who  has  not  beds 
enough  for  her  guests  to  sleep  in.  "  These  poor 
dead,  they  too  must  lie  in  sanctified  ground;  it 
is  their  turn." 

"  Those  buried  here  before.'^  " 

"  The  people  who  died  of  the  last  cholera." 

"  Let  us  go,"  said  Patsy,  "  we've  seen 
enough." 

Did  he  remember  the  story  they  tell  in  Flor- 
ence.? When  the  ancient  city  wall  was  taken 
down  fifty  years  ago,  the  workmen  died  like 
sheep  of  a  mysterious  disease.  An  investigation 
was  ordered.  It  was  found  that  the  old  wall 
crossed  the  cemetery,  where  the  victims  of  the 
great  plague  were  buried  in  the  fourteenth 
century;  the  plague  germs  were  still  alive,  and 
the  workmen  had  died  of  the  plague  that  in 

Boccaccio's  time  decimated  Florence. 

298 


THEVILLAGGIO  REGINA  ELENA 

'*  Would  you  like  a  new  dress,  Caterina?  " 
said  Patsy,  as  we  paused  at  the  gate.  Her 
ragged  gown  clung  to  her  with  the  grace  of 
classic  drapery ;  it  seemed  a  pity  to  change  it  for 
a  stiff  new  dress.  "  Come  to  the  Case  Americane 
at  two  o'clock  and  ask  for  the  Signora." 

"  <Si,  Signorinor'  She  watched  us  go  with 
dancing  eyes;  she  was  to  have  a  new  dress. 

Carlino  was  waiting  outside  the  gate.  His 
cart  was  empty  now;  we  stopped  to  look  at 
the  pretty  turnout.  The  mule's  harness  was 
superb,  with  a  high  pommel  and  headstall  of 
crimson  velvet  embroidered  in  tinsel.  The 
wooden  axle  was  beautifully  carved  with  gro- 
tesque heads  at  either  end.  The  panels  in 
sides  and  back  of  the  cart  were  painted  with 
different  scenes  from  Sicilian  history  or  litera- 
ture. Many  of  the  old  legends  are  preserved 
in  this  way.  In  spite  of  the  painting  being  rather 
poor,  certain  classic  details  are  observed.  The 
subject  of  each  scene  is  stated  so  that  there 
can  be  no  doubt  as  to  what  the  painter  wishes 
to  portray.  On  one  panel  of  Carlino's  carretto 
the  title  is  painted  under  a  tragic  mask: 

*'Eschylus   gives   a  rehearsal  of  his  play  of 

(Edipus  at  Colonus  at  the  Theatre  of  Dionysius." 

299 


SICILY   IN   SHADOW  AND  IN   SUN 

"  That's  Eschylus,"  Patsy  pointed  out,  "  you 
know  him  by  the  roll  of  manuscript  in  his 
hand  —  the  play  happens  to  be  by  Sophocles, 
a  mere  detail!  " 

The  next  panel  represents  English  soldiers 
scouting  in  the  desert. 

"  That's  an  oflBcer  in  khaki  and  a  wide- 
awake hat  on  horseback,  with  an  Arab  in  a 
bournous  pointing  out  the  way." 

"  La  prima  letter  a  amorosa  "  occupies  the 
third  panel,  a  garden  scene  —  a  gentleman  in 
Louis  Quinze  dress  plays  the  harp  to  the  heroine 
in  pink  satin,  reading  a  letter;  below  the  tail- 
board is  a  boldly  carved  dragon;  in  an  under- 
panel  a  pair  of  sweethearts  embracing.  Carlino 
was  proud  of  his  cart,  which  was  fresh,  clean, 
and  newly  varnished. 

"  Not  a  bad  carretto,  is  it.''  "  he  said,  pleased 
at  our  attention.  We  left  Carlino  waiting,  and 
singing  as  he  waited  an  old  song  of  the  people : 

"  Mamma,  mamma  fo  la  preghiera 
Tu  non  lo  sai  con  quale  ardore 
Prego  Iddio  mattina  e  sera 

Che  deir  amante  mi  serbi  il  core!  '* 

We  looked  into  the  Giardino  Mazzini,  where 

the  Calabresi  family  took  refuge  after  the  earth- 

300 


THE   VILLAGGIO  REGINA   ELENA 

quake.  The  sign  at  the  entrance  was  still 
intact:  "  The  public  is  prayed  not  to  touch 
the  plants  or  to  walk  upon  the  grass." 

In  the  middle  of  the  garden  the  calm  face 
of  Mazzini  looks  down  upon  a  strange  scene. 
Barracks  and  shanties  have  been  knocked 
together  anywhere,  everywhere;  one  family 
is  established  in  a  gay  little  summer  house. 
A  clothes-line  has  been  made  fast  to  the  pedestal 
that  supports  the  patriot's  bust,  a  scarlet 
petticoat  flaps  behind  his  head;  two  women 
are  washing  at  a  tub;  a  man  tends  a  fire  in 
an  open  grate,  built  of  stray  bricks;  in  a  gypsy 
kettle,  hung  on  three  sticks,  something  savory 
boils  and  bubbles.  A  swing  has  been  put  up 
across  the  broken  iron  railing;  a  tall  girl  is 
seated  in  the  swing,  her  hair  neatly  tied  with 
a  green  ribbon;  with  a  bold  foot  she  pushes  the 
ground,  and  swings  high,  higher,  under  the 
palm  trees  where  the  dates  are  turning  yellow. 
Three  girls  in  an  arbor  are  at  work,  making  up 
a  funeral  wreath  of  laurel  and  pansies;  one 
offers  us  flowers. 

"  Here,"    said    Patsy,    giving   the   elder   ten 

francs,  "  make  a  cross;    take  it  to   Caterina  at 

the   campo    santo,   ask   her   to   put   it   on  the 

301 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND  IN  SUN 

grave  where  they  buried  Domenica  an  hour 
ago." 

"  That's  the  most  encouraging  sight  that  we 
have  seen  in  Messina  outside  the  Mosella,"  he 
said,  "  people  are  beginning  to  buy  flowers  for 
their  dead." 

Punctual  to  the  minute,  Caterina  tapped  on 
my  door. 

"  Come  in,  cara  mia,  and  choose  your  dress." 

Spread  out  on  the  sea-moss  bed  were  several 
frocks;  I  hoped  Caterina  would  like  the  blue 
dress,  or  the  scarlet  jacket  and  green  skirt; 
she  didn't  even  look  at  them,  but  pointed  to  a 
black  skirt  and  bodice,  made  by  Sora  Clara, 
seamstress  late  of  Bagnara. 

'*  Might  it  be  this?  "  Then  grown  bold 
she  asked  for  a  dress  for  her  mother's  sister. 

"  She  has  been  more  unfortunate  than  an- 
other, because  she  had  more  to  lose !  When  Zia 
Maddalena  went  back  to  her  house  to  get  the 
money  hidden  in  her  mattress,  it  was  gone. 
Poveretta!  " 

*'  Why  didn't  Zia  Maddalena  keep  her  money 
in  the  bank,  instead  of  that  foolish  place.'*  " 

"  One    must   hide   one's   money   somewhere. 

Cousin  Sofia  had  hers  all  in   her  pillow.     She 

302 


THE  VILLAGGIO  REGINA  ELENA 

never  forgot  it  but  ran  out  with  it  under  her 
arm." 

Immense  sums  of  money  were  lost  in  this 
way.  Sicilians  distrust  banks;  the  majority 
keep  their  money  hidden  in  their  houses.  The 
thieves,  knowing  this  habit,  knew  just  where  to 
look. 

We  chose  a  dress  for  Zia  Maddalena  and  one 
for  Cousin  Sofia;  then  Caterina  took  us  to  call 
on  her  relations.  We  found  them  hard  at  work, 
building  a  little  shack  from  what  looked  like 
American  lumber.  Zia  Maddalena,  a  gay  little 
old  woman,  with  a  load  of  boards  on  her  back, 
scolded  her  two  small  grandsons. 

*'  Do  me  the  favor  to  work  a  little  faster, 
Checco,  The  rain  will  begin  before  we  have 
the  roof  on.  Birbante!  Are  you  not  ashamed.'* 
You  are  slower  than  a  sheep." 

Caterina  made  us  known  to  aunt  and  cousin. 
Zia  Maddalena  welcomed  us;  Sofia,  sitting  on 
the  ground,  suckling  her  infant,  smiled  and 
nodded. 

"  I  have  lived  on  this  spot  for  thirty-seven 
years,"  the  old  woman  began.  "  She  was  born 
here,"  pointing  to  Sofia.      *'  Do  you  think  I 

would    live    anywhere    else.''      Later    we    shall 

303 


SICILY   IN   SHADOW   AND   IN   SUN 

have  one  of  the  American  barracks.  The  Signore 
will  speak  to  the  Sor  Comandante  of  us?  " 

Sofia  handed  the  baby  to  her  mother,  picked 
up  a  stone  for  a  hammer  and  began  to  nail 
down  the  roof. 

"  That's  the  little  scamp  who  steals  the  nails 
from  camp,"  said  Patsy,  "  a  handful  at  a  time. 
Look  at  the  size  of  his  fist!  " 

I  gave  Zia  Maddalena  the  garments  we  had 
brought. 

"  Good!  "  she  said,  '*  so  we  shall  have  some- 
thing decent  for  Pasqua,  black  too;  are  we  not 
both  widows.'^  She  lost  her  husband,  I  mine, 
but  she  saved  her  money.  Well,  what's  to  be 
done  about  it.^  We  are  alive,  that's  always 
something." 

Zia  Maddalena  was  stout  of  heart;  she  had 
nothing  but  smiles  for  us. 

'*  I  hope  they  can  have  one  of  the  barracks," 
I  said  as  we  walked  back  to  camp. 

Patsy  of  course  knew  all  about  it. 

"  When  the  houses  are  finished,"  he  explained, 
"  Belknap  will  turn  them  over  to  the  local 
authorities.  He's  been  pestered  for  them  al- 
ready, especially  by  Messinesi  who  claim  to  be 

American  citizens.    The  allotment  of  the  houses 

304 


^*i.^--f..^^: 


./-/.-.  ..v^;  -'^ 


R^-y.  --v^  ^<^ .  r' -^>^  '^^^-^""^irx  ^ 


MESSINA.     AMERICAN  COTTAGES.  VILLAGGIO  REGINA  ELENA.     Page  305. 


THE   VILLAGGIO   REGINA  ELENA 

won't  be  an  easy  job  for  anybody;  the  munici- 
pality must  tackle  it.  There's  a  good  fighting 
chance  for  our  friends.  The  aunt  of  Caterina 
is  the  grandmother  of  Gasperone.  She  is  oflS- 
ciall}^  connected  with  the  camp,  a  person  of 
influence!  " 

We  were  picking  our  way  through  almost 
impassable  streets,  climbing  mountains  of  debris. 
At  one  place  w^e  found  ourselves  on  a  level  with 
the  second  story  of  what  had  been  a  handsome 
bedroom.  The  front  of  the  palace  had  fallen 
into  the  heap  of  ruins  on  which  we  were  stand- 
ing. Two  white  beds  stood  side  by  side.  On  the 
wall  hung  a  costly  mirror  without  even  a  crack. 
Near  the  door  were  two  trunks  and  a  valise 
with  the  labels  of  several  fashionable  con- 
tinental hotels. 

"  The  people  who  lived  here.^  "  I  said. 

"Under  the  ruins;  they  had  just  returned 
from  their  wedding  journey,"  said  Caterina. 

That  afternoon  J.  took  me  to  the  Villaggio 

Regina   Elena   on   the   other   side   of   Messina. 

Like  our  camp,  it  is  beautifully  situated  on  the 

edge  of    a  forrente,  facing  the  straits.      As  we 

drove  over  the  fine  road,  I  could  hardly  credit 

what   J.  told   me,  that  both   road   and   village 

305 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND  IN   SUN 

had  been  built  since  the  earthquake.  We  were 
met  by  two  ItaHan  officers;  one  carried  J.  off 
to  look  over  the  site  for  the  American  quarter 
here,  the  other  offered  to  show  me  the  Villaggio. 

The  butcher  was  just  taking  down  his  shutters, 
opening  shop  for  the  afternoon.  The  bakery 
stood  opposite;  the  smell  of  fresh  bread  floated 
from  the  window.  The  baker's  wife  sat  sewing 
in  the  doorway;  a  baby,  swaddled  stiff  as  a 
papoose,  lay  in  her  lap. 

"  Enter,  enter!  "  she  said  hospitably.  "  Will 
the  Signora  be  pleased  to  see  the  oven.'^  " 

She  threw  open  the  iron  door;  a  brushwood 
fire  roared  and  crackled  in  the  black  cavern. 

"  He  has  made  one  baking  already;  see  how 
light  the  bread  is!  "  She  broke  a  small  loaf 
to  show  what  good  bread  her  husband  made. 
The  officer  tasted  a  morsel. 

"  Va  bene,''  he  nodded.  "  Tell  Pietro  I  am 
content." 

As  we  walked  about  the  village,  the  officer  told 
me  its  brief  history: 

"  Built  for  the  Queen  by  the  sailors  of  the 

battleship,  Regina  Elena,  and  the  soldiers  of 

the  19th  Infantry.     It  has  been  an  immense 

fatigue  —  that  cannot  be  denied.    O !   the  rain, 

306 


THE  VILLAGGIO  REGINA  ELENA 

rain,  rain,  that's  been  the  worst  of  it.  The  sailors 
had  a  change  of  clothes,  it  wasn't  so  bad  for 
them;  our  soldiers  had  but  one  uniform  — 
when  that  was  wet,  there  was  no  other  to  change. 
So  many  have  died,  some  from  exposure  — 
they  were  poorly  nourished,  they  gave  half  their 
rations  to  the  starving  women  and  children  — 
some  from  blood-poisoning,  poverini!  If  one 
had  a  little  scratch,  a  mere  nothing,  on  his  hand 
when  he  went  on  duty,  excavating  the  ruins, 
taking  out  the  dead  —  bah !  a  pin-prick  was 
enough!  " 

The  houses  are  neat  and  comfortable,  painted 
white  and  whitewashed  over  the  paint,  as  double 
precaution  against  vermin.  Each  house  has  a 
porch  and  wooden  steps.  The  village  is  under 
military  control;  a  kindly  control  one  saw  that, 
as  every  man,  woman,  child  we  met  had  a 
smile  for  the  Capitano. 

"  What  is  that  building?  "  I  asked;  we  were 
passing  a  small  house  with  barred  windows. 

"Alas!  Signora,  it  is  a  prison.  Discipline 
is  necessary  —  our  men  are  good  fellows  but 
they  are  human  —  a  firm  hand  is  the  kindest 
in  the  end." 

We    passed    through    the    Via    Principessa 

307 


SICILY   IN   SHADOW   AND   IN   SUN 

Mafalda  and  the  Piazza  Giovanna,  named  for 
the  little  princesses,  to  the  Piazza  Emanuele, 
the  center  of  the  village  life.  The  tiny  church 
stands  here,  a  tall  flagpole  with  the  national 
flag  of  Italy  directly  before  the  door. 

"  It  has  cost  us  more  trouble  to  build  this 
than  all  the  rest,"  laughed  the  Capitano.  The 
chapel  contains  an  altar,  a  confessional  and  a 
cupboard  for  the  vestments,  books  and  mass 
vessels.  There  is  no  room  for  the  congregation; 
they  must  stand  or  sit  outside  for  the  service. 

*'  It  has  been  a  little  hard  —  during  the 
deluge;  that  must  come  to  an  end;  in  general, 
as  the  Signora  has  heard,  this  is  a  fine  climate!  " 

As  a  child  keeps  the  biggest  plum  for  the 
last,  my  officer  had  kept  the  school,  the  crowning 
glory  of  the  Villaggio,  for  the  end. 

"  Opened  on  the  7th  of  March,  Signora, 
nearly  a  month  ago,  at  her  Majesty's  desire. 
She  did  not  wish  the  children  to  lose  a  year's 
schooling  —  they  have  not  lost  much  time,  these 
little  ones,  have  they.^  " 

School  was  over,  the  children  scattered;    the 

captain  sent  a  lad  for  the  schoolhouse  key. 

"  Her  Majesty  sent  all  the  books  and  furni- 

308 


V 


MESSINA.     CASPERONE  AND  WATER  BOYS  IN  HOTEL  COURTYARD.     Page 289. 


1 

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MESSINA.     ROAD-MAKING  IN  THE  AMERICAN  VILLAGE.     Page  305. 


THE   VILLAGGIO  REGINA  ELENA 

ture  from  Rome.  See  the  nice  little  desks,  the 
little  chairs.  Here  are  the  copy-books.  This 
belongs  to  the  son  of  that  woman  you  talked 
with,  a  fair  hand  for  a  nine-year-old,  non  e  vero  .^" 

He  showed  me  the  text-books,  the  maps,  the 
teacher's  records,  the  sum  in  subtraction  on 
the  blackboard,  the  prancing  horse  a  clever 
scholar  had  drawn  below  it. 

'*  It's  one  of  the  best  equipped  village  schools 
I  ever  saw,"  I  exclaimed. 

He  glowed  with  pleasure  —  he  loved  the 
Villaggio  as  a  man  only  loves  the  thing  he  has 
created.  From  the  wall  behind  the  teacher's 
desk,  the  grave  kind  face  of  the  young  Queen 
looked  down  upon  her  school.  We  found  J. 
still  discussing  the  site  of  the  American  quarter 
with  his  officer. 

**  With  respect,  sir,"  said  J.,  "  it's  my  opinion 
that  this  is  the  best  site  —  the  view  is  incom- 
parable." 

"  Unquestionably  t-Biie*^  but  the  ground  slopes; 
to  level  it  will  cost  immense  trouble  and  fatigue. 
This  other  land  behind  here  —  " 

"The  trouble  will  not  be  counted,  sir;  for 
a  hospital  the  higher  ground,  the  better  air, 
the  prospect,  surely  are  important.     Her  Maj- 

309 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND  IN   SUN 

esty  would,  I  feel  sure,  prefer  the  site  that 
the  Comandante  Belknap  finds  most  de- 
sirable —  " 

Both  were  earnest,  polite,  adamantine;  but 
I  knew  that  Captain  Belknap's  site  would  carry 
the  day! 

I  did  not  learn  till  later  that  my  officer  was 
Captain  Bignami,  an  heroic  figure  in  the  drama 
of  Messina.  From  first  to  last  he  was  the 
staunch  friend  of  the  Americans.  His  name, 
like  Captain  Cagni's  at  Reggio,  is  one  that 
Italy  will  hear  more  of;  it  was  never  spoken 
in  our  camp  without  some  word  of  praise. 

It  seems  a  poetical  justice  that  sailors  should 

have  done  so  much  for  Messina,  for  it  has  always 

been    a   hospitable    port    for   the    ships    of   all 

nations,  since  the  first  Phoenician  trader  crept 

timidly  along  the  African    coast,  made  a  dash 

across  the  straits,  and    felt  his  way    into  the 

harbor.     It  was  one  of   the  trysting  places  for 

the  ships  of  the  world.    The  sailors  heard  of  its 

destruction    with   a  shiver    of    regret;    with   a 

haunting  memory  of  its  lovely  shores,  splendid 

with  pomegranates,  golden  oranges,  dark  glossy 

carob  trees,  silver  olives;  where  the  joyous  notes 

310 


THE  VILLAGGIO  REGINA  ELENA 

of  the  tarantella  echoed  by  day,  the  languid 
music  of  the  serenade  by  night;  where  the  air 
was  cool  with  the  kiss  of  snowy  Etna;  sweet 
with  the  perfume  of  many  orange  groves. 


311 


XI 

TAORMINA 

It  was  dark  when  we  arrived  at  Giardini,  a 
poor  fishing  village,  the  station  for  Taormina. 
After  the  stuffy  smoking  carriage,  the  fresh 
salt  air  on  the  cheek  felt  like  a  caress.  Giro, 
cousin  of  Gasperone,  was  recognized  by  his 
white  horse,  his  yellow  wheels ;  he  adopted  us  on 
sight,  tucked  us,  hold-all,  camera  and  Gladstone 
bag,  into  his  minute  cab,  sprang  to  the  box, 
cracked  his  whip. 

"  Hotel  Timeo.^  " 

The  white  horse,  blind  of  one  eye,  bravely 

began    the   stiff   three-mile   climb.      Below   us 

was  the  beach;    we  saw  the  pale  tossing  of  the 

surf,  heard  the  waves  break  with  a  roar,  hiss 

across  the  sands,  sigh  as  they  slipped  back  to 

the  sea.    At  each  turn  of  the  road  the  lights  of 

the  fishermen's  huts  at  Giardini  shone  dimmer, 

the  twinkling  lamps  of  Taormina  brighter;   the 

keen  savor  of  the  sea  grew  fainter,  there  came  a 

whiff  of  mignonette. 

312 


rv^^ 


AN  ERUPTION  OF  MT.  ETNA.     Page  3 18. 


THE  ROAD  TO  TAORMINA.     Page  312. 


TAORMINA 

"  Behold  the  garden  of  his  Excellency  the 
Duca  di  Bronte,"  Giro  pointed  to  a  row  of  white 
columns,  glimmering  in  the  darkness. 

Bronte,  the  name  of  the  old  Sicilian  Titan, 
means  thunder;  a  good  title  for  that  modern 
Titan,  Lord  Nelson,  the  great  admiral,  the 
friend  of  Italy.  History  repeats  itself;  his 
descendant,  the  present  Duke,  leader  of  the 
British  relief  work  here,  has  proved  the  heredi- 
tary friendship.  In  1799  the  estate  of  Maniace 
and  Bronte  with  the  title,  Duca  di  Bronte,  were 
conferred  in  perpetuity  upon  Lord  Nelson  and 
his  descendants.  The  present  Duke,  the  second 
son  of  the  house,  inherited  the  title  because 
he  devoted  his  life  to  the  care  of  this  valuable 
estate,  famous  for  its  vineyards,  almond  and 
olive  groves.  I  have  heard  Marion  Crawford 
tell  of  a  visit  to  Maniace,  of  the  picturesque 
old  house,  the  moat,  the  Norman  church,  the 
regiment  of  armed  retainers,  the  feudal  state 
the  Duke  maintains.  When  you  meet  the  Duke 
in  London,  he  is  the  Honorable  A.  Nelson  Hood. 
Isn't  that  a  splendid  pose.^  An  English  "  Hon- 
orable "  is  worth  more  than  a  foreign  title  of 
Duke.     Ah,  that's  the  grand  spirit  that  makes 

England  what  she  is,  that  makes  us  what  we 

313 


SICILY  IN   SHADOW  AND  IN   SUN 

are  today!  Later  I  found  out  the  history  of 
that  garden.  The  Duke  bought  the  land, 
meaning  to  build  a  house  and  make  a  garden  at 
Taormina.  It  was  found  that  the  soil  was  not 
firm  enough;  it  lay  too  thinly  over  the  great 
rock.  The  architect  could  not  guarantee  that 
the  whole  hillside  would  not  come  sliding  down 
into  the  sea  —  at  least  this  was  the  gossip  of 
Taormina.  The  Duke,  therefore,  had  to  be 
content  with  his  garden.  It  is  a  perpetual  joy 
to  all  who  pass  up  the  long  hill;  by  day  you  see 
its  white  columns  shining  in  the  sun,  its  flowers 
spread  like  a  rich  Persian  carpet;  by  night  you 
catch  the  glimmer  of  the  pillars,  the  scent  of 
mignonette. 

Hotel  Timeo  (named  for  Timseus,  the  great 
historian  of  the  place)  is  a  creature-comfortable 
house  where  the  guests  dress  for  dinner.  Two 
fashionable  American  ladies  sat  at  a  table  near 
ours,  a  family  of  Sicilians  in  deep  mourning 
farther  away.  At  a  glance  we  saw  that  the 
guests  were  all  men  and  women  of  the  world. 

"  Quite  a  contrast  to  the  camp,"  said  Patsy, 

as  the  French  waiter  brought  our  consomme. 

*'  Don't  you  miss  Gasperone,  the  Africano,  the 

carpenters  sitting  below  the  salt?  " 

314 


TAORMINA 

Early  next  morning  nightingales  and  black- 
birds called  and  called  me  to  the  window.  I 
stepped  on  the  balcony  and  saw  Etna  at  dawn, 
clear  against  a  pearl-gray  sky.  The  mountain 
rises  out  of  the  sea  to  an  enormous  height;  it 
is  snow-covered  at  this  season  a  third  of  the 
way  down.  In  the  crystal  clearness  of  early 
morning  the  summit  was  unclouded;  the  smoke 
was  blown  from  the  cone  like  a  gray  feather. 

Two  hours  later  Assunta,  the  Sicilian  beauty, 
who  brought  the  breakfast  tray  with  honey, 
white  bread  and  golden  butter,  threw  wide  the 
shutters. 

"  The  Signora  will  eat  outside.'^  It  is  the 
habit  of  the  strangers." 

In  the  South  spring  comes  with  one  stride, 
as  night  in  the  tropics.  It  was  here.  A  jessa- 
mine clambered  up  from  the  garden,  bringing 
its  starry  blossoms,  its  delicate  perfume;  a 
tall  lemon  tree  in  full  blossom,  a  rose  tree 
touched  the  balcony  —  I  leaned  down  and 
picked  a  blush  rose.  Beyond  was  a  feathery 
mimosa,  covered  with  fine  yellow  flowers; 
splendid  savage  cactus  plants  raised  their  armed 

spikes  like  spears;    a  pergola  was  lost  under 

315 


SICILY   IN   SHADOW   AND   IN   SUN 

an  amethystine  rain  of  wistaria,  an  arbor 
hidden  by  the  harsh  glory  of  bourganvillia;  a 
row  of  amphorae,  that  once  held  wine  or  oil, 
overflowed  with  purple  heliotrope.  On  a  wall 
stood  a  jewelled  bird,  the  prince  of  peacocks, 
sunning  himself,  his  long  tail  sweeping  the  path. 
Below  lay  the  turquoise  sea,  the  scalloped  shore, 
the  long  point  of  Naxos,  tawny  sand,  rimmed 
with  white  foam;  in  the  lovely  bay  a  fishing 
boat  slipped  before  the  wind.  Beyond  Naxos 
the  sloping  line  of  Etna  begins,  rising  grandly 
from  the  blue  sea;  the  flanks  are  covered  with 
white  villages,  shining  in  the  sun.  Slowly, 
smoothly,  the  line  mounts  and  mounts,  broken 
here  and  there  with  little  mounds.  The  color 
is  smoky  blue  to  the  snow-line.  Now  the  smoke, 
instead  of  blowing  aside,  hangs  above  the  cone 
in  two  snowy  rings.  On  the  shore  glisten  the 
white  houses  of  Giardini;  close  at  hand  is 
Taormina  —  the  old  city  wall,  the  flame-shaped 
battlements  of  the  Badia,  the  clock  on  the 
cathedral.  The  hum  of  bees  as  they  delve  in  the 
flower-cups,  rifling  honey  for  their  hive  —  honey 
that  Assunta  will  in  turn  ravish  for  some 
stranger,  fills  the  air;  the  ceaseless  chirrup  of 
the  tree-toads  makes  a  soft  alto  to  the  bees' 

316 


TAORMINA 

treble;  the  fragrance  of  the  flowers  floats  up 
like  incense,  that  dehghts  yet  does  not  stupefy; 
every  sense  is  fed  on  beauty.  Is  not  this  the 
one  perfect  hour  to  which  one  might  say 
"  stay  "  ? 

A  sense  of  terror  comes  after  I  have  watched 
the  cone  of  Etna  for  an  hour.  Sometimes  when 
the  httle  white  puffs  of  smoke  stop,  my  heart 
stands  still.  While  the  great  monster  blows  out 
his  rings  of  smoke,  I  feel  safe;  in  those  moments 
of  suspended  breathing  there  is  terror.  It  is  as 
if  I  were  listening  to  the  long  breaths  of  a 
sleeping  giant,  who,  when  he  stops  breathing, 
may  awake  and  destroy  me.  The  tension  is 
over,  he  breathes  again;  his  breath  goes  up  in 
a  white  feather,  like  the  souls  of  dying  saints 
as  the  Italian  primitives  painted  them,  coming 
out  of  the  mouth  in  a  white  scroll.  This  is  a 
place  of  fearsome  beauty;  to  choose  it  out  of 
the  wide  earth  for  a  home,  to  establish  one's 
house  here,  shows  a  gambler's  nature.  What  if 
that  great  monster  should  awake,  pour  out  his 
deadly  floods  of  scorching  lava  on  farm,  villa, 
town.'^  Etna  must  have  counted  for  much  in 
forming  the  fiery  Sicilian  nature.     The  Swiss, 

from  looking  on  the  iron  calm  of    their  dead 

317 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND  IN  SUN 

snow-capped  mountains,  have  caught  something 
of  their  steadfastness.  The  SiciUan  has  before 
him  day  and  night  this  splendid  savage  creature, 
sleeping  now  but  sure  to  wake  again,  whose 
sleep  means  life  and  safety,  whose  waking  means 
death  and  torture;  how  can  it  but  affect  his 
character?  The  very  grapes  grown  on  its 
flanks  make  potent  inflaming  wine;  if  its  fever 
is  in  the  blood  of  the  grape,  a  thousand  times 
more  is  it  in  the  hot  blood  of  its  men  and 
women. 

The  earthquake.'^  It  is  as  if  the  giant  had 
turned  over  in  his  bed,  shaken  his  great 
shoulders,  brought  down  town  and  city,  des- 
troyed a  district,  snapped  ancient  temple 
columns  like  pipestems,  crushed  cathedral  and 
hut  alike  in  one  awful  blood-curdling  welter  of 
pain,  that  has  darkened  the  earth,  made  the 
whole  world  mourn. 

These  words  —  I  copy  them  exactly  —  were 
hardly  jotted  down  in  my  diary,  when  I  was 
startled  by  a  violent  barking  of  dogs,  a  terrified 
braying  of  donkeys,  the  groan  of  cattle,  then  — 
the  earth  heaved  like  the  sea,  once,  twice,  thrice ! 
Next   complete    silence;     for    a    long   moment 

Nature  held  her  breath.     Men,  beasts,   tree- 

318 


TAORMINA 

toads,  were  silent;  not  a  leaf  stirred,  the  very 
winds  were  stilled. 

The  shocks  were  light;  we  had  felt  far  worse 
at  Messina,  but  there  we  had  expected  them. 

"  There  has  never  been  a  severe  terramoto 
in  Taormina,"  said  Alessandro,  the  porter 
of  the  Timeo.  "  That  is  why  the  forestieri  have 
settled  here.  The  town  stands  on  solid  rock  and 
cannot  be  shaken.    There  is  nothing  to  fear." 

Every  person  I  met  said  the  same  thing.  As 
the  day  wore  on,  the  strange  faintness  born  of 
the  earth  tremors  passed  away,  yet  during  all 
the  weeks  we  stayed  at  Taormina  the  memory 
of  it  lingered.  The  giant  who  sleeps  below 
Etna  had  but  turned  in  his  sleep;  if  he  should 
awake  and  roar  at  us  as  he  had  roared  at  those 
others ! 

We  spent  much  of  our  first  day  in  the  old 
theatre;   Patsy  had  been  there  since  dawn. 

"  The  larks  were  singing  when  the  sun  leaped 
over  the  Calabrian  mountains,"  he  said;  '*  with 
their  help  and  the  custodes,  I  have  recon- 
structed the  theatre  as  it  was  in  the  Greek  time, 
before  the  Romans  made  it  over.  The  stage 
is  better  preserved  than  any  I  have  seen;  the 

arena  is  finer  at  Italica  —  you  remember  .^^  " 

319 


SICILY  IN   SHADOW  AND  IN  SUN 

Italica,  Italica  by  Seville,  the  song  of  the 
bees,  the  scent  of  wild  thyme  —  unf orgetable ! 

"Look  at  that  pretty  girl  perched  up  there! 
She  is  posing  for  a  picture  of  Sappho.  Lucky 
you  can't  see  the  artist,  a  fellow  with  a  beard  and 
pipe!  " 

Yellow  blossoming  sage,  asphodel,  mint, 
lavender,  glossy  acanthus  with  its  exquisite 
leaves,  its  lilac  spikes  of  flowers,  grow  in  the  old 
theatre.  I  gathered  a  small  acanthus  leaf,  and 
smoothed  it  between  the  leaves  of  a  book  for 
comfort  in  the  days  to  come.  Do  you  know 
why  the  Greeks  plucked  out  the  very  heart  of 
Beauty?  Because  they  lived  with  beauty. 
Their  minds  were  formed,  perhaps  their  very 
bodies  were  affected  by  the  beauty  that  sur- 
rounded the  race  from  its  beginning.  The  lines 
of  their  hills  and  coasts;  the  colors  of  their  sea 
and  sky  are  the  most  beautiful  on  earth.  Their 
eyes  were  trained  by  these  things,  their  imagina- 
tion roused,  their  minds  exalted.  Like  Greece, 
Sicily  is  noble  in  its  very  foundation.  Strip 
it  of  trees,  of  flowers,  of  grass,  the  beauty  of 
its  lines  remains  indestructible. 

"  Come  up  to  the  little   museum;    it  stands 

where  the  small  temple  over  the  theatre  used 

320 


TAORMINA 

to  be.  There  are  some  good  architectural 
fragments  —  bits  of  mosaics  and  inscriptions 
from  the  theatre,  a  good  torso  of  Bacchus,  a 
head  of  Apollo." 

Patsy  introduced  the  custode,  one  of  the 
characters  of  the  place,  who  welcomed  us  and 
showed  his  few  treasures  with  a  fine  pride.  He 
spoke  Italian  with  chiseled  care. 

"  To  hear  him  talk,  after  the  dialetto,  is 
like  listening  to  Beethoven  after  rag-time!  " 
said  Pats3^  "  Do  you  realize  how  fortunate 
we  are  that  the  tourist  season  is  spoiled  by  the 
earthquake.'^  We  have  the  theatre  and  the  cus- 
tode all  to  ourselves.^   It's  too  good  to  be  true!'* 

The  custode  sold  him  a  green  pamphlet,  with 
the  story  of  the  theatre  in  four  languages.  The 
pair  of  them  clambered  about,  map  in  hand, 
exploring  the  stage,  the  cunei,  the  proscenium, 
while  I  sat  and  tried  to  imagine  the  captives 
and  slaves  at  work  here,  hewing  this  vast 
theatre,  that  could  seat  forty  thousand  people, 
out  of  the  solid  rock. 

"  The  next   time   we    want   to   build   a  new 

theatre,"   Patsy   exclaimed,   "  we    should  send 

the    architect   to    Taormina.      The    man    who 

planned  this  understood  theatre  building.    The 

321 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND  IN  SUN 

Greeks  didn't  write  about  scenery,  but  they 
always  put  their  theatres  and  temples  where 
they  got  the  best  view.  See  how  simple,  how 
practical,  how  grand,  this  must  have  been! 
There  went  the  stairs,  leading  to  the  seats  of 
the  nobility  —  look,  here's  the  name  of  one 
cut  in  the  pavement,  lopeia,  supposed  to  have 
been  a  priestess.  She  had  a  good  seat  at  the 
play.  Imagine — she  sat  here,  heard  the  Antig- 
one of  Sophocles,  between  the  acts  looked  at 
Etna!  Happy  lopeia!  I  hope  she  deserved 
all  she  got.  It  must  have  been  worth  while 
to  be  a  stockholder  in  this  concern.  Listen  to 
the  repertory:  'Tragedies,  devoted  to  Dionys- 
ius,  Comedies  to  Demeter,  Satires,  Spectacles, 
Dances.'  The  place  was  never  shut  like  our 
theatres;  it  was  the  social  centre  of  the  town. 
When  there  was  no  performance  going  on, 
poets  and  philosophers  met  and  discussed  their 
theories,  read  aloud  their  works;  foreign  ambas- 
sadors were  received  here.  Down  below  is  the 
passage  leading  to  the  arena,  where  the  wild 
beasts  were  driven  through.  We  don't  want  to 
see  that;  it  belongs  to  the  coarser  Romans,  to 
the  time  when  they  had  gladiator  shows  like  our 

prize  fights." 

322 


TAORMINA 

Here  a  party  of  English  people  came  upon  the 
scene,  the  first  travelers  we  had  seen  since  we 
left  Naples.  They  were  evidently  from  the 
white  yacht  that  lay  anchored  near  Naxos. 
They  scrambled  about  the  theatre  for  a  little, 
then  went  up  to  the  museum. 

A  tall  slight  man,  in  a  yachting  cap,  evidently 
the  host,  interested  me.  He  had  the  face  of  an 
American,  the  voice  and  manners  of  a  Britisher. 

*'  Do  find  out  who  they  are,"  I  said  to  Patsy; 
**  I  am  sure  he  is  somebody." 

*'  Bother  somebodies!  "  laughed  Patsy.  "  We 
don't  want  to  hear  about  anybody  except 
lopeia;  and  listen  to  what  the  custode  says  —  " 
he  read  from  his  floppy  green  pamphlet:  "  '  The 
theatre  was  built  in  the  time  of  Andromachus. 
The  foundations  of  most  of  Taormina's  monu- 
ments were  laid  under  his  government,  as  for 
example,  the  theatre,  the  forum,  the  temples, 
the  aqueduct.  He  brought  to  this  place  the 
good  taste  and  high  culture  of  the  Greeks  of 
Colchis.'  " 

"  The  lady  with  the  pretty  yellow  hair  — 

look  at  her.  Patsy  —  haven't  we  seen  the  face 

before.'^  " 

He  would  not  look,  would  only  talk  about 

323 


SICILY   IN   SHADOW   AND   IN   SUN 

Timseus,  the  son  of  Andromachus,  and  what  a 
fine  historian  he  was. 

"  I  am  sure  it's  a  face  I  know,"  I  persisted. 
Nothing  would  bring  Patsy  back  to  today;  he 
was  wandering  in  the  golden  age  of  Sicily.  The 
porter  of  the  Timeo  told  me  about  the  travelers: 

"  The  Princess  Henry  of  Battenberg.  The 
tall  man?  Sir  Thomas  Lipton.  They  came  on 
his  yacht,  the  *  Erin  '  —  there  she  goes,  you 
can  just  see  her!  "  The  "  Erin  "  had  passed 
Naxos,  headed  for  the  great  blue  promontory 
sixty  miles  away,  Syracuse! 

Taormina  is  a  fascinating  town,  with  little 
Saracenic  touches  everywhere.  The  architec- 
ture is  of  a  dozen  different  styles  and  epochs, 
the  prevailing  impression  that  remains  is  of 
Sicilian  Gothic.  Many  fa9ades  are  inlaid  with 
a  pretty  diaper  pattern  of  black  and  white  lava 
stone.  The  Palazzo  Corvaia  has  a  quaint 
relief  of  the  creation  of  Eve,  the  Fall,  Adam 
digging  and  Eve  spinning  with  a  distaff. 

"  When  Adam  delved  and  Eve  span, 
Where  was  then  the  gentleman?  " 

Taormina  clings  like  a  gray  limpet  to  the 
gray  rock;  the  town  is  built  on  a  narrow  cres- 
cent,  on  one    side  a  precipice,   on  the  other 

324 


X 
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TAORMINA.     CHOIR  STALLS.  SAN  DOMENICO.     /j,-. 


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TAORMINA.     FRIAR  JOSEPH'S  MISSAL.     Page  332. 


TAORMINA 

an  abrupt  mountainside.  The  old  Greek  theatre 
stands  at  one  point  of  the  crescent,  the  Domini- 
can convent  at  the  other.  The  two  face  each 
other;  between  them  runs  the  main  street, 
perhaps  a  mile  long.  In  the  people  we  meet, 
there  is  the  same  bewildering  contrast  of  types 
as  in  the  architecture.  Giro  is  a  Greek;  his 
profile  is  classic  as  the  head  of  Apollo  on  a  coin 
fresh  from  the  mint  of  Taormina;  Assunta  is 
a  Roman,  coarser,  heavier,  but  with  a  certain 
force  that  has  its  charm. 

We  gravitated  naturally  to  the  cathedral  of 
San  Nicolo,  pausing  outside  to  look  at  the 
fountain  surmounted  by  the  oddest  figure  of  a 
Minotaur,  with  the  head  of  a  man  and  the  body 
of  a  bull.  The  fore  legs  are  missing;  the  quaint 
emblem  balances  perilously  on  its  hind  legs. 
The  old  name  of  Taormina  was  Mount  Taurus, 
so  called  because  the  two  points  of  the  hill  on 
which  it  stands,  from  a  distance,  look  like  the 
horns  of  a  bull.  Later  it  was  called  Tauro- 
menium,  the  abiding  place  of  the  bull.  One  of 
the  architectural  details  that  delighted  us  was 
a  sort  of  Saracenic  rose  window,  repeated  over 
the  main  door  of  several  of  the  churches. 

We  entered  the  cathedral  by  an  enchanting 
325 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND  IN  SUN 

door,  encircled  by  a  vine,  covered  with  bunches 
of  grapes,  boldly  carved  in  stone;  the  vine 
springs  from  a  classic  vase  on  either  side  the 
portal.  Later  we  found  this  same  design  in 
other  Sicilian  churches.  There  are  several  at 
Palermo,  none,  however,  that  compare  with 
the  grape-vine  at  Taormina. 

An  old  dame,  who  had  loitered  in  the  offing, 
hobbled  ahead  to  lift  the  leathern  curtain  and 
earn  her  two  sous.  She  was  bent,  wrinkled, 
wise  looking.  Of  course  Patsy  annexed  her; 
for  him  the  people,  no  matter  how  dirty  or  dull, 
are  always  of  greater  interest  than  the  place. 

Before  the  high  altar  stood  a  carved,  gilded 

wooden  statue  of    San  Pancrazio,  the  African, 

dressed   in   his   best   robes,   wearing   his   finest 

jewels,  mitre  and  gloves.     He  was  mounted  on 

a  paso  (platform),  like  those  we  saw  at  Seville 

in  the  Easter  processions.     Opposite  stood  a 

similar  figure  of  San  Pietro.    As  we  were  looking 

at  them.  Giro  tracked  us  down  —  when  he  had 

no  fare  he  haunted  Patsy's  footsteps.    He  said 

a  sharp  word  in  dialetto  to  the  old  woman  — 

something    equivalent    to    "  hands    off  "  —  we 

were  his  legitimate  forestieri;  had  not  Gasperone 

recommended  us  to  him.^^ 

326 


TAORMINA 

**  San  Pancrazio  —  molto  bello.** 

"  When  it  comes  to  beauty,"  said  Patsy, 
*'  don't  you  prefer  Giro's  style?  " 

Giro,  warm  with  running,  his  young  face 
glowing,  his  eyes  like  gems,  was  certainly  hand- 
somer than  the  poor  old  bedizened  negro  saint. 

"It  is  the  festa  of  San  Pancrazio  perhaps?  " 
I  asked,  puzzled  to  account  for  his  presence 
before  the  altar. 

"  No.  After  the  earthquake  San  Pancrazio 
was  brought  here,  and  for  the  moment  remains,'* 
said  Giro.  "  Some  people  say,  how  do  I  know 
if  it  is  true,  that  he  caused  the  earthquake?  He 
has  great  powers,  he  protects  against  dangers 
of  land  and  sea.  Lately,  for  one  reason  or 
another,  he  has  been  neglected  —  it  is  true,  when 
I  was  a  child  they  made  far  more  of  his  festa 
than  now." 

"  Maria  Santa  is  my  witness,"  cried  the 
woman  passionately,  "  that  for  two  years  next 
to  nothing  has  been  spent  for  the  patron's 
festal  There  were  warnings:  an  old  crone 
appeared  to  a  contadino  and,  waving  her  stick, 
cried  three  times,  acqua,  acqua,  acqua  leggiera, 
then  she  disappeared  in  the  clouds.  The  con- 
tadino from  that  day  was  seen  no  more.    Behold ! 

327 


SICILY  IN   SHADOW  AND   IN  SUN 

three  weeks  before  the  earthquake,  the  acqua 
leggiera  came  —  it  was  a  cloudburst,  bad  enough 
but  nothing  to  what  came  after  —  if  we  had 
only  taken  warning!  " 

She  wiped  the  saint's  foot  with  her  apron, 
kissed  it,  and  wiped  again  as  good  manners 
demand. 

"  Behold!  here  is  money  for  two  candles;  let 
me  see  you  light  them."  Patsy  gave  her  a 
franc. 

"  May  you  be  blessed,  by  Santissima  Maria, 
by  all  the  saints,  by  the  Apostles !  The  ignorant 
say  that  San  Pancrazio  and  San  Pietro  were 
brothers  —  a  madness !  Saint  Peter  was  a 
Sicilian,  white  as  the  blessed  Lord  himself.  San 
Pancrazio  was  a  Moor,  with  a  black  skin  as 
you  see.  The  truth  is,  their  mothers  were 
sisters  and  they  were  cousins.  The  morning 
of  the  terrmnoto  we  carried  San  Pancrazio  to 
the  Piazza  outside  there  and  showed  him  to  the 
sea.  It  was  a  terrible  sight!  The  water  had 
been  drawn  back  one  hundred  metres;  we  saw 
all  the  rocks  at  the  bottom,  the  great  fish  leaping 
in  the  air.      After  a  moment  a  big  wave  came 

high,  high,  and  remained  on  the  shore.     It  broke 

328 


TAORMINA 

the  boats,  tore  the  nets;  one  fisherman  was 
drowned.  When  the  wave  saw  San  Pancrazio, 
poco  a  pocOy  it  went  back  to  its  place." 

*'  It  was  pitch-dark,"  murmured  Patsy,  "  no- 
body saw  anything." 

"  Enough,  enough,  nonna,"  Giro  interrupted, 
**  the  signori  are  in  haste!  To  San  Domenico 
now.'^     I  will  call  the  custode,  he  is  my  friend." 

"  What  does  that  strip  of  black  cloth  nailed 
across  the  shutter  signify.^  "  Patsy  asked,  as  we 
walked  towards  San  Domenico. 

**  Mourning,"  Giro  explained.  "  Wherever 
you  see  it,  you  may  know  that  in  the  house 
dwell  refugees,  or  people  who  have  lost  relations 
in  the  earthquake." 

Every  third  house  in  Taormina  had  this 
mourning  badge. 

Waiting  outside  the  church  of  San  Domenico, 
were  two  gentlemen  from  Turin,  a  large  urbane 
man,  and  a  slight  taciturn  person  who  never 
spoke.  Patsy,  who  apparently  knew  them, 
began  asking  questions  about  the  church. 

"  I  have  not  yet  seen  it,"  said  the  urbane 
man,  "  but  I  hear  it  is  the  best  in  Taormina  —  " 

San  Domenico  is  a  fine   old    church  with  a 

soft  cracked  bell;     we  liked  it  far  better  than 

329 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND   IN  SUN 

the  cathedral.  The  custode,  unfortunately,  was 
a  layman;   he  knew  his  lesson  well,  however. 

"  This,"  he  said,  pointing  to  a  curious  picture, 
**  is  San  Domenico.  Observe  the  manta,  real 
silver,  and  the  chasing  —  ah !  there  is  but  one 
finer,  the  manta  of  the  Madonna  at  the  Matrice 
in  Messina." 

The  saint's  head,  painted  on  wood  or  canvas, 
was  set  into  the  manta,  a  square  of  wrought 
silver,  very  Spanish  in  feeling,  that  filled  the 
entire  frame. 

On  a  quaint  old  tomb  a  warrior  in  armor,  a 
crusader  from  his  crossed  legs,  lies  uneasily  on 
his  side.  His  name  was  Giovanni  Corvaia;  he 
built  the  palace  of  that  name. 

"  Come  see  the  organ,"  said  Patsy,  "it's  like 
Saint  Cecilia's  in  the  Domenichino  picture." 

The  organ  stands  in  a  damp  side  chapel.  It 
is  of  wood,  painted  a  soft  green,  with  gilded 
pipes  and  ornaments. 

"  Molto  antico,  four  hundred  years  old  and 
still  in  use,"  the  custode  declared.  "  Will  one 
of  the  gentry  be  pleased  to  play.^^  I  will  blow 
the  bellows." 

The  urbane  Torinese    took  his  seat  at  the 

organ;    the  custode  raised  the  lid  of  the   key- 

330 


TAORMINA 

board.  There  was  but  one  bank  of  yellow  ivory- 
keys,  much  worn  by  pious  fingers. 

*'  Four  octaves,"  said  the  Torinese;  he  meas- 
ured the  notes  with  a  musician's  hand,  then 
began  to  play  an  air  from  Pagliacci.  The  organ's 
voice,  like  an  old  artist's,  was  still  sweet  and 
true,  though  uncertain  and  tremulous.  As 
he  played  the  Torinese  talked  over  his  shoul- 
der: 

"You  know  this  air  —  yes?  and  this?  You 
like  our  Italian  composers?  Tell  me  where  you 
will  find  their  match!  Mascagni,  Leoncavallo, 
Puccini,  Boito  —  for  me  his  Mefistofile  is  the 
noblest  of  modern  operas." 

"  Come!  "  cried  Patsy,  the  concert  over,  "I 
have  found  two  portraits  of  a  jolly  old  monk, 
who  spent  his  whole  life  beautifying  this  church. 
First,  look  at  his  work.  This  pulpit,  these 
choir  stalls  —  aren't  they  lovely?  " 

When   we   had    admired    the    richly   carved 

pulpit  and  choir.  Patsy  took  us  to  the  sacristy, 

where  the    carving  is  even    finer    than  in  the 

church.     The   figure   of   San   Domenico   asleep 

on  the  ground,  the  roster  of  the  order  he  founded, 

growing  like  a  genealogical  tree  out  of  his  side, 

is  charming.    The  figures  of  saints  and  martyrs, 

331 


SICILY  IN   SHADOW  AND   IN   SUN 

some  of  them  full  of  dignity  and  beauty,  are 
held  up  by  pairs  of  chubby  children,  playing 
on  pipes  and  cymbals;  meant  for  angeliniy 
they  look  far  more  like  amorini.  The  wood- 
carving,  evidently  by  the  same  hand  throughout, 
rises  to  heights  in  the  figure  of  Christ  in  the 
sacristy  and  Saint  Michael  in  the  choir. 

"  Un  capo  lavoro!  "  cried  the  Torinese.  "  It 
has  been  shockingly  neglected  though;  I  must 
write  to  the  Prince  about  it!  " 

The  monk  could  illuminate  a  missal  as  well  as 
carve  a  choir;  the  custode  assured  us  that  the 
handsome  parchment  music-book  in  the  choir 
was  the  work  of  the  same  monk. 

"  Here's  the  old  fellow's  signature  to  his 
magnum  opus,"  said  Patsy,  "  carved  on  a  panel 
of  the  choir:  Hoc  opus  fieri  fecit  ad  deis,  etc., 
etc.  Fr.  Joseph  Alermo,  1602.  The  f rate's 
Latin  is  queer,  but  we  know  what  he  means. 
Here  he  is  young,  there  he  is  old,  painted  by 
himself.  Wood-carver,  illuminator,  portrait- 
painter,  well  done,  Fra  Joseph!  " 

In  a  room  leading  to  the  sacristy  hang  the 

monk  of  Taormina's  two  portraits  of  himself. 

The  first  shows  a  jovial  full-blooded  man  in  the 

Dominican  habit,  holding  a  skull  in  his  hand; 

332 


TAORMINA 

below  are  the  words:  Junior  fui  et  fecit  ilium. 
The  older  portrait  is  much  defaced;  the  motto 
in  Fra  Joseph's  queer  Latin  remains  clear: 
Eterni  servi  et  fed  istud. 

'*  That  was  a  man  with  good  red  blood  in 
his  veins,"  said  Patsy.  '*  We  have  all  fallen 
under  his  spell!  That's  because  what  he  did, 
he  did  with  all  his  might.  Joseph  —  could  he 
have  been  English.'^  " 

"  I  believe  he  was  German,"  said  the  Tori- 
nese.  "  He  must  have  passed  his  life  in  Taor- 
mina  though,  to  live  in  this  place  of  unparalleled 
beauty,  to  enjoy  an  existence  devoted  to  art 
and  religion  —  heato  lui!  " 

As  we  left  the  San  Domenico,  Patsy  and  the 
Torinese  had  some  discussion  about  paying  the 
custode. 

"  It's  my  turn,"  I  heard  Patsy  say.  "  You 
paid  last  night." 

"You  are  Americans?  "  the  Torinese  asked. 

"  Yes." 

"  Let  me  do  so  little  for  the  people  who  are 

doing  so  much  for  Sicily.     If  you  come  to  my 

city,  do  me  the  favor  to  call  —  I  have  not  a 

card,  alas!     May  I  write  my  name  on  yours .^^  " 

Patsy  had  no  card.      I  produced  one   of   J.'s, 

333 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND  IN  SUN 

and  the  Torinese  wrote  his  name  and  address  on 
the  back. 

Those  days  at  Taormina  slipped  by  as  a 
chaplet  of  odd  and  even  pearls  slips  between 
the  fingers.  Now  and  then  it  poured,  and  we 
would  come  home  drenched  to  the  skin,  glad 
for  once  of  the  steam-heater  to  dry  our  wet 
garments.  Those  rainy  days  were  the  uneven 
pearls ;  the  others  were  each  rounded  from  dawn 
to  dark  to  a  sphere  of  perfect  beauty.  Whether 
Etna  was  all  visible,  or  all  hidden,  or  half  re- 
vealed, we  always  felt  the  great  presence,  were 
never  for  one  moment  out  of  its  influence. 

"Hullo!  this  must  be  Mr.  Wood's  studio," 
said  Patsy,  pointing  to  a  picturesque  sign,  *'  why 
not  go  in.'^  " 

Mr.  Wood  lives  in  a  dignified  old  palazzo.  We 
were  made  welcome,  and  spent  a  delightful  after- 
noon, poring  over  a  portfolio  of  water-colors; 
pictures  of  Etna  in  its  countless  moods,  at  every 
hour  of  the  day,  from  a  hundred  points  of  view. 

"  No  work  since  the  earthquake,"  sighed  the 
painter. 

*'  That's  not  what  they  say  at  camp." 

**  Well,  no  work  of  my  own;    there  has  been 

too  much  to  do!  " 

334 


TAORMINA 

As  we  were  having  tea,  Mr.  Bowdoin  hap- 
pened in;  later,  several  EngHsh  and  American 
Taorminians  dropped  in.  This  was  one  of  the 
colony's  social  centres. 

*'  All  of  us  here,"  said  Mr.  Wood,  "  had  a 
narrow  escape.  We  had  arranged  to  go  to 
Messina  on  the  27th  of  December,  spend  the 
night  and  hear  Madame  Butterfly.  At  the 
last  minute  the  manager  changed  the  opera 
to  Aida;  we  had  all  heard  Aida  so  often  that  we 
gave  up  going.  The  hotel  where  we  would  have 
stayed  was  destroyed;  all  the  opera  singers 
perished!  " 

We  tried  to  talk  of  other  things,  a  dozen 
subjects  were  started  —  in  vain,  it  was  impos- 
sible to  get  away  from  that  all-absorbing  topic, 
the  earthquake.  One  and  another  told  their 
experiences,  letters  were  read,  extracts  from 
journals.  With  our  new  friends,  we  lived  over 
again  those  dreadful  days,  when  we  in  Rome 
were  torn  with  anxiety  about  them,  because 
no  word  came  from  Taormina. 

"  The  Sicilians  are  a  strange  race,"  said  one; 

"  they  talk  loud  over  nothing;  when  something 

really  hurts,  they  burn  dumb;    at  heart  they  are 

a  melancholy  people.      Here  at  Taormina  they 

335 


SICILY   IN  SHADOW  AND   IN   SUN 

had  a  bad  earthquake,  a  bad  tidal  wave.  In 
the  beginning  the  poor  were  dazed,  but  the  first 
clothing  distributed  was  collected  by  a  Sicilian 
woman,  who  performed  an  act  extraordinary 
among  people  so  Oriental  as  the  Sicilians  still 
are.  She  went  from  house  to  house,  at  the  tail 
of  a  cart,  gathering  clothing.  This  lady  does  not 
leave  her  house  alone  twice  a  month;  Sicilian 
women,  even  by  daylight,  mostly  go  out  in 
twos  and  threes.  Her  house  was  turned  into  a 
factory  for  cutting  out  and  making  clothes  and 
mattresses.  The  money  I  was  able  to  get 
together  for  her,  bought  an  incredible  number 
of  mattresses  —  incredible  except  for  the  fact 
that  she  and  the  women  of  Taormina  made  them 
up  themselves.  A  sister  of  this  woman  went 
about  the  village,  asking  for  helpers  to  go  down 
with  her  to  meet  the  trains.  At  first  Sicilian 
men  and  two  English  women  went  with  her. 
Later  the  forestieri  waked  up  and  with  their 
greater  command  of  money  of  course  accom- 
plished much  more  —  the  work  of  the  foreign 
colony  here  has  been  splendid;  but  it  was  not 
the  foreign  colony  that  started  the  work;  the 
impulse  was  Sicilian." 

"  I  see  you  like  the  Sicilians,*'  I  said. 
336 


TAOR^IINA 

"  I  love  them,"  said  my  new  friend.  "  Give 
them  three  words  of  dialetto,  and  you  will 
see;  there  are  no  warmer  hearts  in  the 
world." 

Though  we  never  saw  Miss  Hill,  we  heard  of 
her  everywhere.  She  had  provided  the  neces- 
sary sewing  for  our  camp;  she  had  defended  car- 
loads of  lumber  destined  for  a  wretched  hamlet, 
that  had  been  seized  by  the  people  in  a  larger 
and  less  needy  village.  One  morning,  when  it 
was  too  wet  to  be  out  of  doors,  we  went  to  see 
Miss  Hill's  school  of  needlework.  The  names 
of  the  streets  we  passed  through  delighted 
Patsy, — theLane-behind-the-nut-tree,  the  Alley- 
behind-the-Cathedral.  In  a  pleasant  work- 
room a  bevy  of  girls  sat  at  work,  learning  to 
make  the  lovely  Sicilian  drawn-work  and 
embroidery.  Before  Miss  Hill  started  her 
school,  these  industries  were  among  the  lost 
arts. 

"  The  shops  are  full  of    our  patterns,"  said 

the  manageress  tartly.      "  They  learn  them  here 

and  then  go  away  and  make  them  for  any  one 

who  will  pay  them!  " 

"  That's  the  test  of  the  school's  usefulness, 
337 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND   IN  SUN 

isn't  it?  "  I  asked.  Impossible  to  resist  the  lovely 
Sicilian  embroideries  and  drawn-thread  work, 
Patsy  and  I  bought  all  we  could  afford. 

Taormina  is  like  Cornish,  the  chief  personage 
in  the  place  is  the  mountain.  There  is  much 
rivalry  among  the  colonists  as  to  who  has  the 
best  view.  You  go  to  make  a  visit,  first  of  all 
you  must  make  your  respects  to  the  mountain. 
I  thought  of  dear  blue  Ascutney,  whenever  I 
was  asked  to  pronounce  for  or  against  each  new 
view  of  Etna,  from  hotel  terrace  or  friendly 
garden.  One  of  the  best  was  from  the  old 
house  on  the  Corso,  where  we  went  one  after- 
noon to  tea,  with  Dr.  and  Mrs.  Paton.  The 
stemma  over  the  door  bears  the  column  of  the 
Colonnas,  the  lily  of  the  Farnese;  these  familiar 
emblems  of  two  famous  old  Roman  families 
made  us  feel  at  home  at  once.  We  had  arrived 
punctually  on  the  minute  of  half  past  four;  so 
had  the  prince  of  peacocks.  Walking  sedately 
to  the  side  of  his  mistress,  he  fed  daintily  from 
her  hand,  his  jewelled  neck  shining  in  the  sun, 
the  splendor  of  his  fan  unfolded. 

I  had  read    Dr.  Norris's  letters  from  Taor- 
mina in  those  early    days,  when  he  and  Mrs. 

Norris  were  among  the  most  active  relief  work- 

338 


TAORMINA 

ers.  We  picked  up  the  threads  and  I  listened 
to  the  story  of  this  and  that  family  these  dear 
people  had  succored.  They  had  invited  to  meet 
me  a  Sicilian  lady,  who  had  escaped,  almost 
miraculously,  from  Messina,  a  fine  energetic 
young  woman,  half  Italian,  half  German  by 
birth.  She  gave  me  a  firm  grasp  of  the  hand, 
and  was  able  and  willing  to  talk  with  me  about 
her  own  experience. 

She  had  waked  at  the  first  shock,  put  a 
pillow  over  her  face  to  protect  it  from  falling 
plaster,  held  firm  to  the  sides  of  her  bed,  and 
the  next  minute  found  herself  in  the  street, 
perfectly  safe,  without  a  scratch  —  her  room 
had  been  in  the  fourth  story!  All  her  family, 
except  one  sister  in  Switzerland,  were  killed  — 
parents,  brothers,  sisters;  their  bodies  were 
still  buried  in  the  ruins.  The  sister  in  Switzer- 
land had  gone  mad  with  grief. 

This  girl  believes  that  the  loss  was  harder 
on  her  sister  than  it  had  been  on  her- 
self. 

Dr.  Norris  said  that  the  sentiments  of  many 
of  the  survivors  were  paralyzed;  that  every- 
body being  in  more  or  less  the    same  case  of 

having  lost  all  their    friends,  they  accepted  it 

339 


SICILY   IN   SHADOW   AND   IN  SUN 

as  a  matter  of  course.      It  seemed  part  of  the 

natural  order,  and   easier  to  bear  than  if  they 

alone  had  been  singled  out  to  bear  a  crushing 

blow.     Some  sense  also  of   having  been  among 

those   preserved,  it  often  seemed  miraculously, 

stayed  them.     The  people  who  had  been  buried 

alive  for  three  days,  however,  do  not  recover; 

they  have  a  fixed  look  of  horror.      That  side  I 

cannot  bear  to  dwell  on,  —  the  dreadful  number 

of  lingering  deaths ! 

Some  of  the  cultivated  people  we  met,  who 

have  lost  every  one  belonging  to  them,  showed 

a  calm,  a  manner  of  putting  it  all  behind  them 

that  is  admirable.     The  grief  for  one  person, 

greatly  loved  in  a  family,  casts  a  greater  and 

longer    shadow    apparently    than    these    awful 

catastrophes.      It  seems  also  that  nothing  that 

happens  to  any  one  else  can  affect  us  as  much  as 

what  happens  to  ourselves.      Those  people  who 

have  looked  death  in  the  face  and  escaped  seem, 

almost  against  their  volition,  to  bloom  out  and 

to  rejoice  in  life  itself,  even  though  they  seem 

to  have  lost   everything   that  makes  life  dear. 

I  must  confess  that  I  felt  this  with  the  people 

who  had  come  into  property  by  the  death  of 

all  their  families,  and  not  with  those  who  had 

340 


TAORMINA 

lost  everything.  I  suppose  this  is  perfectly 
human  and  natural. 

Our  last  day  at  Taormina  we  had  tea  in  the 
enchanted  garden,  with  some  of  our  Sicilian 
friends. 

In  an  upper  room  of  the  Timeo,  Tetrazzini 
was  singing  (through  the  Victor)  the  great  aria 
from  Mignon;  w^hen  it  was  finished,  Caruso 
sang  his  song  from  I'Africaine. 

"  To  hear  the  Etna  among  tenors,  while  we 
are  looking  at  Mt.  Etna,"  said  Patsy,  "  gives 
one  a  faint  idea  of  what  the  old  Taorminians 
enjoyed  in  their  theatre!  "  The  music  over, 
we  sat  talking  with  our  friends.  One  of  the 
men,  a  professor,  lassoed  and  caught  round  the 
neck  a  little  green  lizard;  very  soon  the  pretty 
creature  was  quite  tame. 

'*  Be  thou  quiet  or  I  shall  hurt  thee,  little 
one!  "  said  the  Professor,  as  he  cut  the  lasso, 
and  the  lizard  ran  away  with  a  necklace  round 
his  throat.  The  talk  ranged  wide,  of  books, 
operas,  artists,  everything  but  what  was  at 
hand.  Finally  the  Professor  held  up  a  warning 
finger: 

"  Listen,  the  nightingale!    He  never  says  the 

same  thing  twice  —  while  we  —  '*  he  shrugged 

341 


SICILY  IN   SHADOW  AND   IN   SUN 

his  shoulders,  picked  a  scarlet  poppy  and  stuck 
it  in  his  coat. 

"  That's  Luigi,"  said  Patsy,  as  we  waited  for 
the  Syracuse  train  on  the  platform  at  Giardini, 
"  that  beautiful  old  fellow  with  the  white  beard! 
Bonanno  told  me  about  him.  He  was  driven 
quite  mad  by  the  earthquake  —  benevolently 
mad,  he's  perfectly  good-natured.  His  mind 
is  destroyed,  as  far  as  today  is  concerned. 
What's  left  alive  is  the  most  interesting  thing  of 
his  life  —  he  was  one  of  the  '  Mille; '  he  sailed 
from  here  with  Garibaldi  for  Calabria  in  1860, 
nearly  fifty  years  ago  —  he  must  have  been  a 
mere  boy  then,  can't  be  so  very  old  now  — 
looks  hard  as  nails.  The  arrival  of  a  train  seems 
to  be  his  link  with  the  past.  He  meets  them 
all,  and  marches  up  and  down  the  platform, 
singing  patriotic  songs.  He  doesn't  beg;  I 
tried  to  give  him  something  the  other  day,  and 
he  would  not  take  it." 

As  the  engine  slowed  down,  the  old  fisherman 
drew  himself  up  to  his  great  height  and  saluted. 
A  fine  man,  with  something  very  Spanish  in 
his  bearing,  he  must  have  had  a  drop  of  Cas- 
tilian  blood  in  his  veins.     His  skin  was  tanned 

342 


TAORMINA 

as  leather,  his  eyes  blue  as  the  sea,  his  hair 
and  beard  of  virile  silver.  As  the  guard  blew 
the  whistle,  Luigi  threw  up  his  right  hand, 
waved  it  gallantly  over  his  head,  charged  across 
the  platform,  with  the  old  cry  of  the  Hunters 
of  the  Alps: 

"  Italia  e  Vittorio  Emanuele!  " 

In  the  railroad  carriage  the  people  laughed. 
Patsy  looked  back  at  the  old  fisherman  with 
that  odd  brightening  of  the  eye,  that  in  a  woman 
ends  in  tears. 

Down  at  Naxos  burned  a  brushwood  fire. 
The  thin  column  of  smoke  mounted  high  in 
the  breathless  air.  Here  stood  the  altar  to 
Apollo,  where  the  Greek  mariners,  before  they 
sailed  back  to  Hellas,  lighted  a  sacrificial  fire. 


343 


XII 

SYRACUSE 

The  only  sounds  in  the  quarry  came  from 
over  our  heads;  first  there  was  a  soft  rushing 
of  wings,  as  a  flock  of  birds  ahghted  in  the  tree- 
tops,  then  the  confused  twittering  of  their 
voices  as  they  chattered  busily  together;  a 
bevy  of  quail  had  halted  to  rest  on  its  flight 
from  Africa  to  Europe.  We  listened  to  their 
plans  for  the  next  stage  of  the  journey;  orders 
were  given,  questions  asked,  signs  and  counter- 
signs exchanged.  Then  came  another  soft 
whirring  noise,  the  sky  was  darkened  by  the 
shadow  of  wings,  the  air  filled  with  sounds  of 
flight  —  the  aerial  army  was  gone.  We  were 
alone  again  in  that  place  of  agony,  "  the  Geth- 
semane  of  a  nation,"  the  quarry  where  nine 
thousand  Athenian  captives  languished  and 
perished  in  their  prison  grave.  Alone .^^  no! 
Shadows  of  the  broken  remnant  of  that  great 
army,  that  came  to  Syracuse  to  conquer  and 
to  crush  and  was  itself  crushed  out  of  existence, 

344 


SYRACUSE 

crowd  about  us.  We  feel  their  presence,  as  we 
felt  the  birds',  even  though  we  cannot  see  them. 
Here  in  the  Latomia  dei  Capuccini,  a  hundred 
feet  below  the  surface  of  the  earth,  the  bitterness 
of  that  defeat  is  tasted  again.  The  place  that 
heard  the  groans  of  those  sorrowing  and  dying 
men  still  claims  its  tribute  of  tears,  and  will 
while  the  imperishable  spirit  of  Hellas  rules, 
while  from  generation  to  generation  one  Grecian 
lives  to  repeat  the  dreadful  story  of  Thucydides. 
No  defeat  was  ever  so  unexpected.  The 
Athenians,  led  away  by  the  eloquence  of  their 
evil  genius,  Alcibiades  —  he  was  then  thirty- 
five  years  old  —  the  wittiest,  bravest,  hand- 
somest, most  worthless  of  men,  had  gone  mad 
over  their  anticipated  victory.  They  would 
become  masters  of  Syracuse  and  the  other  Greek 
cities  of  Sicily;  when  Trinacria  was  conquered, 
Athens  would  take  Italy,  Carthage,  the  western 
islands  of  the  Mediterranean.  So  Athens 
dreamt  of  the  empire  that,  five  centuries  later, 
Rome  built.  In  415  B.C.  the  Athenians  began 
the  war  with  Syracuse  that  ended  in  such  terrible 
destruction,  and  led  to  the  downfall  of  Athens. 
The  Athenians    were  at  first  successful;    they 

built    a    double    wall    around     Syracuse,    they 

345 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND   IN  SUN 

seemed  on  the  point  of  reducing  the  city,  when 
something  happened.  Some  say  the  total 
echpse  of  the  moon  frightened  Nicias,  the 
vacillating  Athenian  General;  others  that  the 
Athenians  were  made  prisoners  between  their 
own  lines  of  defence  by  reinforcements  from 
perfidious  Sparta,  at  the  moment  when  the 
Athenian  ships  under  Demosthenes  were  cut  off 
by  sea.  The  overthrow  was  so  complete  that 
not  a  ship  escaped,  not  one  man  went  back  to 
Greece  to  tell  the  tale.  Nicias  and  Demosthenes 
happily  committed  suicide;  those  others  were 
left  to  rot  and  die  in  that  living  tomb,  where  for 
ten  weeks  long  the  dead  and  the  living  lay  to- 
gether. Months  after  a  traveling  merchant  told 
the  story  of  the  disaster  to  a  barber  in  Piraeus, 
supposing  all  Greece  knew  it. 

The  glaring  stone  quarry,  where  the  Athenian 
captives  were  exposed  to  the  burning  sun  by 
day,  the  bitter  cold  at  night,  while  the  gaily 
dressed  Syracusan  ladies,  scent  bottle  in  hand, 
peeped  over  the  parapets,  watching  their  agony 
curiously,  is  now  a  place  of  extraordinary 
beauty.  We  climbed  down  a  flight  of  a  hun- 
dred stairs  to  reach  this  subterranean  garden, 

a   solemn   and   romantic  spot.      The  primrose 

346 


SYRACUSE 

colored  walls  of  the  old  quarry  are  hung  with  a 
splendid  tapestry,  knotted  ivy,  and  long  trailing 
creepers  of  madre  selva,  clematis,  the  mother  of 
the  wood.  Here  and  there,  from  some  cranny 
in  the  dazzling  limestone,  a  fig  tree  thrusts  its 
strong  green  leaves  up  to  the  sun,  the  flame  of 
the  pomegranate  glows  beside  the  gold  of  oranges 
and  lemons,  long  lines  of  lilies  stand  waiting  to 
bloom  for  Easter.  In  the  midst  of  this  sunken 
garden  of  delight  stand  the  busts  of  two  great 
men  the  Syracusans  of  today  delight  to  honor, 
Archimedes  of  Syracuse  and  Mazzini  of  Genoa. 

"  Amerigo,  behold !  thy  compatriots !  Piano^ 
piano,  so;  that  was  a  good  riverenza!  " 

The  father  of  Amerigo  (porter  at  our  hotel), 
a  smart  fellow  dark  as  a  Moor,  patted  his  son, 
as  the  child,  tugging  at  his  scarlet  cap,  made  us 
a  deep  bow. 

*'  Americano,  yes,  born  in  Nuova  Yorka !  I 
was  butler  to  a  great  family  —  they  paid  me 
sixty  scudi  a  month  —  go  back.^  oh,  yes!  We 
came  to  see  our  parents  once  more,  ma  come  si 
fa  ?  The  schools  of  Sicilia  are  not  like  those  of 
Nuova  Yorka.  We  go  back  for  the  little  ones, 
though  I  myself  am  content  here,  e  un  hel 
paese!  '* 

347 


SICILY  IN   SHADOW   AND   IN   SUN 

We  were  the  only  guests  at  the  Villa  Politi, 
a  good  inn  near  the  Latomia.  I  thought  it 
melancholy  to  sit  at  meals  alone  in  the  big  din- 
ing-room; Patsy  argued  that  we  were  better  able 
to  "reconstruct"  ancient  Syracuse  in  solitude 
than  if  surrounded  by  a  lot  of  interesting  people. 

The  Greek  Theatre  gave  me  my  first  over- 
whelming sense  of  really  being  in  Magna 
Grecia;  the  beauty  of  the  lines  of  the  semicircle, 
the  tiers  of  seats  rising  one  above  the  other; 
the  permanent  feeling  of  the  work  hewn  from 
the  bed  rock,  are  all  extraordinarily  impressive. 
The  custode,  a  serious  olive-colored  man,  was 
full  of  serviceable  knowledge.  As  we  listened 
to  his  talk,  some  small  creature  ran  over  my 
foot. 

"  Have  no  fear,  Signora,  that  little  animal  is 
the  friend  of  man ;  I  owe  him  my  life.  Sitting 
here  alone,  I  sometimes  fall  asleep  in  the  sun, 
there  is  danger  —  " 

"  Fever?  "  Patsy  interrupted. 

'*  Ma  che,  no  fever  here,  vipers!  This  one,  he 
runs  before  the  viper  and  makes  a  noise  — 
zzzzz  —  like  that  to  give  warning.  If  I  doze  he 
wakes  me,  yes,  even  if  he   has  to  touch  my 

face." 

348 


SYRACUSE 

"  You  are  a  Syracusan?  "  I  said. 

'*  I?  a  Roman!  Twelve  long  years  I  have 
served  in  Siracusa  —  an  exile,  Signora,  they 
have  forgotten  me!  Oh!  to  see  the  cwpalone 
once  more  —  lira,  lira!  "  He  meant  that  the 
cupola  of   St.  Peter's  drew  him  back  to  Rome. 

Patsy  mentioned  Commendatore  Boni;  the 
custode  was  on  fire.  He  begged  us  to  speak  to 
the  great  capo  at  Rome,  perhaps  we  could  get 
him  "  moved  on.'^  "  He  himself  had  a  friend, 
a  gentleman  of  influence,  if  we  would  see  him, 
something  might  come  of  it  —  one  never  knows. 

"  We  have  no  influence,  we  are  forestieri  —  " 
I  began. 

"  Si  capisce,'^  said  the  custode,  "  allow  me 
at  least  to  write  the  name  of  the  gentleman." 

We  had  not  a  scrap  of  paper  among  us;  I 
found  a  card  of  J.'s  however;  on  the  back  of 
this  the  custode  wrote  the  name  and  address  of 
the  gentleman  with  influence. 

I  asked  the  custode  to  take  us  to  the  Roman 
amphitheatre. 

'*  Patiejiza,'"  he  said,  *'  what  haste.^  Imagine! 
in  this  place  the  plays  of  Euripides  were  given, 
here  ^Eschylus  recited  his  own  dramas!" 

"Euripides  again!  "  cried  Patsy  pulling  out 

349 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND  IN  SUN 

a  book.  "  Listen  to  this :  *  Among  the  Athenian 
captives  in  the  quarry,  there  were  some  who 
could  repeat  long  passages  from  Euripides' 
plays.  These  men  were  favored  far  above  others ; 
some  were  even  freed  for  the  poet's  sake,  and 
long  afterwards  went  back  and  found  him  and 
thanked  him,  branded  as  they  were,  for  life 
and  liberty.'  " 

The  custode  waited  patiently,  then  took  up 
his  thread: 

"  Over  there,"  he  pointed  to  the  Roman 
amphitheatre,  "  the  Romans  pitted  wild  beasts 
against  each  other,  sometimes  against  men.  A 
Spanish  priest,  a  great  personaggio  in  the 
Church,  had  the  arena  excavated  —  you  know 
the  fanaticism  of  that  people  —  on  account  of 
the  Christians  martyred  there.  The  amphi- 
theatre is  not  interesting  —  in  comparison  with 
the  theatre,   one  understands." 

"  He's  heard  students  talk,"  said  Patsy; 
'*  he's  all  for  Greek  antiquities,  has  a  proper 
scorn  for  Roman.  Don't  you  find  it  lonely 
here.'^  "  This  last  to  the  custode,  in  whose  life 
and  character  he  was  already  deeply  interested. 

*'  There    are    diversions,"    the     custode    told 

him;    "  in  other  seasons,  many  visitors  come; 

350 


SYRACUSE 

I  have  talked  with  almost  all  the  sovereigns  of 
Europe.  The  learned  too  from  all  over  the 
world  —  what  questions  they  ask !  For  this  one 
I  collect  the  weeds,  for  that  one  the  butterflies. 
This  year  on  account  of  the  disaster,  you  might 
say,  nobody  comes  —  behold  my  companions!  " 
He  pointed  to  a  white  goat  with  curled  horns 
cropping  the  grass  in  the  old  theatre;  two 
beautiful  little  black  kids  frisked  and  butted 
each  other  at  her  side. 

"  The  animals  belong  to  you.^  " 

*'  To  my  son;  he  has  gone  to  Anapo  for  fish, 
also  for  papyrus;  it  grows  there  as  nowhere 
else;  they  say  the  Moros  planted  it.  That  goat 
is  a  famous  milker,  —  even  after  the  young  ones 
have  fed  she  gives  half  a  brocca  of  milk!  " 

The  ancient  Via  delle  Tombe  lies  just  above 

the  Greek  theatre;    it  led  to  the  city  and  must 

have  served  as  a  thoroughfare  for  the  living  as 

well  as  a  burial  place  for  the  dead.    The  road-bed 

is  deeply  furrowed  with  ruts  of  ancient  chariot 

wheels.     On  either   side  are   the  tombs,  rifled 

centuries  ago;   tombs,   street,   and  theatre   are 

all  hewn  out  of  the  solid  rock;    the  race  that 

made  them,  built  as  no  race  builds  today,  for 

all  time! 

351 


SICILY  IN   SHADOW  AND  IN   SUN 

"  Behold  the  depths  of  these  ruts,"  said  the 
custode,  "  those  narrow  ones  were  made  by 
the  funeral  cars." 

"  It's  like  Pompeii,"  said  Patsy;  —  "  those 
old  tracks  hit  harder  than  all  the  rest;  they 
make  the  place  alive  as  nothing  else  does." 

"  Ci  rivedremo?  "  said  the  custode  as  we  parted. 
*'  The  Signori  will  come  again?  They  should 
see  the  sunset  from  here.  The  view  of  Syracuse, 
the  great  harbor,  the  Ionian  sea  is  famous." 

"  O,  yes,  I  shall  come  back,"  said  Patsy. 
"  Lonely,  poor  old  chap,"  he  continued,  as  we 
drove  off;  "I  shall  have  to  make  some  photo- 
graphs of  the  theatre  and  the  goats." 

All  of  ancient  Syracuse  is  intensely  interesting. 

It  is  filled  with  the  great  shades  of  the  past;  we 

felt  them  all  about  us,  just  as  we  had  felt  the 

presence  of  the  birds  in  the  tree-tops  over  the 

old  quarry.    Modern  Syracuse  is  disappointing; 

a  little  provincial   town   with  narrow  crooked 

streets  lighted  by  electricity.     Could  this  ever 

have   been    "  the   largest   of   Greek,   the   mbst 

beautiful  of  all  cities.^  "     The  splendid  capital 

of  Dionysius  and  Hiero,  the  home  of  Theocritus.'* 

Today  Syracuse  has  shrunken  again  to  the  size 

352 


SYRACUSE.  FORT  EURYELUS.  Page  353. 


!VV 


SYRACUSE.    EXAMPLE  OF  SICILIAN  GOTHIC  ARCHITECTURE.    Page  352. 


GIRGENTI.     A  WINE  CART. 


GIRGENTI.     A  SICILIAN  CART. 


SYRACUSE 

of  Ortygia,  the  island  where  the  original  Greek 
settlement  was  planted.  The  five  prosperous 
towns  that  once  surrounded  the  central  city 
have  disappeared;  the  magnificent  harbor  alone 
remains  unchanged;  it  could  still  hold  a  fleet 
of  battleships. 

"  Where  can  we  get  the  best  view  of  Greater 
Syracuse?  "  Patsy  wondered;  "  it  must  have 
been  very  like  Greater  New  York.  The  central 
city  built  on  an  island  in  a  magnificent  harbor 
surrounded  by  five  cities  and  connected  by  a 
bridge  to  the  mainland.  You  can  see  the  re- 
maining ruins  of  the  five  cities  on  this  map  — 
see  here  they  are,  they  correspond  quite  well 
to  Brooklyn,  Hoboken,  Jersey  City,  Staten 
Island  and  the  Bronx!  " 

We  had  fixed  Sunday  afternoon,  our  last  day, 
to  deliver  a  letter  of  introduction  to  a  lady  of 
Syracuse;  our  time  was  so  short  we  could  not 
risk  being  tempted  with  hospitalities!  When 
the  hour  for  the  visit  arrived  Patsy  *'  begged 
off!" 

"  That  old  Greek  fort  of  Euryelus,"  he  began, 

"  I    didn't    half    see    it    the    other    day  —  the 

English  officer  I  met  in  the  catacombs  says  that 

Archimedes  invented  the  catapult  for  its  defence. 

353 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND  IN  SUN 

He  says  it's  still  so  solid  it  could  be  repaired 
to  stand  a  siege  —  an  old-fashioned  one  of  course 
—  like  the  siege  of  Troy!  " 

*'  You  more  interested  in  an  old  ruin  than  a 
new  acquaintance?  "  I  cried.  No  use,  for  once 
Patsy  deserted  me. 

On  the  way  to  deliver  the  letter  I  stopped  at 

the  cathedral,  formerly  a  Pagan  temple.     The 

baroque  fa9ade  is  disappointing.      Where  are 

the  remains  of  the  temple,  of  the  costly  treasures 

Verres  carried  off  to  Rome,  and  got  soundly 

scolded  by  Cicero  for,  in  consequence  .^^     To  get 

back  to  that  time  you  must  go  over  step  by 

step  what  has  happened  since  then.     In  the 

seventh   century   the   temple  was   turned   into 

a  Christian  church  by  Bishop  Zosimus,  in  the 

eighth    it    became    a    Mohammedan    mosque; 

temple,   mosque,    cathedral,  it  has  served  its 

purpose  of  worship  well!     When  my  guide,  a 

bright-eyed  boy,  rattled  off  his  lesson,  the  place 

immediately    grew    interesting.      I    found    the 

temple's    superb    Doric    columns  —  they    are 

whitewashed    now    and    hard    to    discover  — 

imbedded  in  the  cathedral  walls;  at  the  sight  of 

them  the  church  vanishes,  a  splendid  temple 

stands    in    its    place.      Near    this    deep-fluted 

354 


SYRACUSE 

column,  may  have  knelt  Simaetha,  the  deserted 
girl,  imploring  help  of  Artemis  to  win  back  false 
Delphis  —  hark,  her  old  cry  echoes  through 
the  ages: 

"  Three  times  do  I  pour  libation,  and  thrice, 
my  Lady  Moon,  I  speak  this:  Be  it  with  a 
friend  he  lingers,  be  it  with  a  leman,  may  he 
clean  forget  them,  as  Theseus  of  old  forgot  the 
fair-tressed  Ariadne!  " 

**  There  will  be  a  baptism,"  said  the  boy,  "  if 
the  lady  cares  to  see  the  font  —  " 

I  looked  at  the  curious  baptismal  font,  while 

the  sacristan   lighted  his  candle  in  preparation 

for  the  rite.     The  font  is  a  classic  vase,  resting 

on   twelve   quaint   Phoenician-looking   lions   of 

green   bronze;    an    inscription   states  it  was  a 

gift  to  Zosimus.     Who  was  he?    A  god,  as  one 

book  says,  or  the  Bishop,  or  a  pagan   historian, 

who  criticizes  Christian    emperors  over  much? 

Either  way,  it  was    strange  to  see  the  ancient 

vase  used  as  a  baptismal    font,  to  witness  the 

casting  out  of   the  old  Adam  from  a  new-bom 

baby  by  a  cross  apoplectic  archpriest,  who  so 

frightened  the  infant  that  it  roared  horribly  as 

Adam  departed. 

"  You    are    the    son    of    the    custode  ? "    I 
355 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND  IN  SUN 

said  to  my  guide,  a  lad  perhaps  eleven  years 
old. 

*'  No,  I  am  the  custode  !  " 

"  And  your  father,  what  does  he  do?  " 

"  Oh,  he  is  a  custode  too/' 

The  lady,  to  whom  I  had  the  letter,  received 
me  cordially.  She  lives  in  an  old  palace,  with 
large  high  rooms,  and  modern  furniture.  I 
pleased  her  by  saying  how  much  we  admired 
the  dark  Syracusan  type;  I  did  not  see  one 
blonde  in  Syracuse. 

"Your  women  have  superb  hair,"  I  said; 
"  they  dress  it  beautifully." 

"  You  noticed  that.'*  I  have  seen  women 
without  shoes,  whose  coiffures  were  finer  than 
those  I  saw  in  Paris.  They  are  extravagant. 
Imagine !  my  washerwoman  has  her  hair  dressed ; 
she  pays  a  franc  and  a  half  a  month  to  a  hair- 
dresser —  you  should  see  her;  her  coiffure  is 
almost  as  good  as  mine." 

"  That  would  be  difficult;  your  hair  is  mag- 
nificent." 

"  All  my  own  —  see,  hardly  a  white  hair,  just 

two  or  three  over  the  temple.     When  I  was 

young,  it  covered  me  like  a  cloak,  but  what  can 

one  expect  at  sixty?  " 

356 


SYRACUSE 

**  Sixty  —  it's  not  possible!  " 

"  Yes,  my  festa  was  a  week  ago;  how  old 
should  you  have  said?  " 

"  Less  than  forty." 

It  was  true,  she  was  the  youngest  person  for 
her  age  I  ever  saw.  A  tall  shy  man  now  came 
in  followed  by  a  brown  lupetto  dog. 

My  hostess  introduced  me.  "  An  American 
lady  —  she  brings  a  letter  from  the  Contessa 
Q.  —  she  would  be  welcome  without  it  —  we 
know  what  the  Americani  are  doing,  Signora. 
I  myself  saw  the  good  warm  clothes  the  Ameri- 
can Capitano  landed  here.  O,  the  Prefetto  was 
glad  of  those  garments  and  those  medicines  — 
what  was  the  name  of  the  ship,  Arturo.^*  " 

*'  There  were  several;  thou  referest  to  the 
Celtico." 

'*  What  a  kind  man  was  that  captain  —  he 
spoke  French  like  a  Frenchman  and  the  young 
biondino  who  kept  the  lists;  tanto  simpatico!  " 

It  was  pleasant  to  hear  of  the  "  Celtic's  " 
good  work  in  this  very  foreign  house,  of  Captain 
Huse  and  of  Paymaster  Jordan  ycleped  il  bion- 
dino! 

"  Did  I  tell  thee,"  said    Arturo,  addressing 

my  hostess  —  he  was  too  shy  to  speak  directly 

357 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND  IN  SUN 

to  me  —  "  that  the  sailors  of  the  American 
fleet  made  up  a  purse  of  sixteen  thousand  francs 
for  the  families  of  our  mariners  smitten  by 
the  disaster?  It  is  a  fact  of  piety  and  comrade- 
ship not  to  be  forgotten." 

"  Thou  say  est  well.  Hast  thou  not  a  glass  of 
wine,  a  bit  of  cake  to  offer?  " 

Poor  Arturo,  thankful  for  any  excuse  to 
escape,  lurched  out  of  the  room  followed  by  the 
lupetto.  He  was  one  of  those  painfully  shy  men 
whose  greatest  intimacies  are  with  animals,  as 
dumb  as  they  themselves  would  like  to  be. 

"  Your  husband  —  "I  began. 

"  No,  no,  my  son!  "  she  interrupted,  laughing 
till  the  tears  came  to  her  eyes. 

"My  son,  the  eldest;  not  a  good  son;  he 
has  married  against  my  wishes.  Children  are 
nothing  but  vexations;  to  be  happy  one  must 
be  childless!  " 

I  tried  to  change  the  subject  by  asking 
Arturo's  profession. 

"  He  has  no  profession,  no  ambitions.  His 
father  was  in  the  Legislature,  as  was  my  father. 
Arturo  is  satisfied  to  live  in  the  country,  to  make 
wine,  to  raise  sheep,  goats,  swine.  That  is  very 
well,  but  it  is  not  enough.     He  should  see  the 

358 


SYRACUSE 

world,  pass  a  winter  in  Rome;  but  no,  he  thinks 
only  of  his  vineyards  and  his  sheep.  Madonna 
Santa,  his  goats  —  my  son!  " 

Arturo  returned,  followed  by  a  servant  bring- 
ing refreshments.  He  poured  the  wine,  held  the 
glass  to  the  light,  handed  it  to  me  with  a  deep 
bow: 

"Your  health!'* 

'*  This  is  exquisite  —  so  light  —  it's  like  some 
Syracusan  wine  I  had  at  Taormina;  "  I  men- 
tioned the  name. 

*'  That  is  not  an  honest  wine,"  he  was  all 
alive  now.  "  I  should  not  advise  you  to  take 
it.  This  now  is  pure;  be  not  afraid,  it  cannot 
hurt  you!  " 

"  It's  hard  to  get  wine  in  Rome  at  any  decent 
price  nowadays,"  I  said. 

"  "VMiat  do  you  pay  a  flask .-^  " 

"  We  are  fortunate,  we  do  not  pay  forestieri 
prices,  we  have  it  from  a  friend  for  two  francs — " 

"  If  this  suits  the  Signora,  we  can  make  an 
arrangement  to  send  her  a  quantity,  direct,  not 
through  the  hands  of  an  agent  —  they  are  all 
robbers!  " 

WTien  I  thought  I  had  stayed  long  enough,  I 
rose  to  go. 

359 


SICILY   IN   SHADOW   AND   IN   SUN 

"  It  is  early,"  said  my  hostess,  surprised  at 
my  haste,  though  we  had  talked  for  over  an 
hour;  there  is  more  time  in  Syracuse  than  in 
some  places. 

"  My  cab  has  come  —  " 

"  The  Signora  will  drive  in  the  Passeggiata 
Aretusa?  Everybody  goes  there  Sunday  after- 
noon; there  is  music,  it  is  just  the  time.  Shall 
I  accompany  her.''  " 

"  It  would  be  most  kind." 

"  No,  no,  a  pleasure!  Take  my  keys,  Arturo, 
be  sure  you  give  them  to  none  but  me."  She 
bustled  about  briskly;  in  a  few  minutes  was 
ready  for  our  drive.  "  I  will  show  you  more 
people  worth  looking  at  in  half  an  hour  than 
you  would  see  alone  in  a  week." 

Arturo  helped  us  into  the  cab;  as  we  drove 
off  he  bowed  with  a  certain  rustic  awkwardness 
not  without  its  charm;  he  pleased  in  spite  of 
his  plainness.  He  is  not  fitted  for  courts  or 
capitals,  but  just  for  the  country  lifeihe  likes; 
I  am  sure  his  flocks  flourish,  I  know  his  wine  is 
good;  even  in  Syracuse,  mothers  are  not  always 
the  best  judges  of  a  son's  capacity. 

In  the   Passeggiata   Aretusa   the   band   was 

playing    Cavalleria   Rusticana.      The   pleasant 

360 


SYRACUSE.     CHURCH  OF  SAN  GIOVANNI.    Page 354. 


THEATRE,  PALERMO. 


ETRUSCAN  SARCOPHAGUS. PALERMO  MUSEUM. 


IN  THE  MUSEUM.  PALERMO. 


SYRACUSE 

promenade,  facing  the  harbor  front,  was  crowded 
with  people  dressed  in  their  best.  The  Syracu- 
sans  walked  up  and  down  in  family  groups, 
father  and  mother  behind,  children  in  front,  or 
sat  upon  benches  in  threes,  young  girl,  young 
man,  and  the  inevitable  chaperon.  There  were 
few  carriages,  only  one  with  pretensions,  an 
antique  barouche  lined  with  mulberry  cloth; 
coachman  and  footman  wore  liveries  to  match; 
horses  and  harnesses  were  fresh  and  handsome, 
the  whole  turnout  was  of  the  style  of  fifty  years 
ago.  The  scene  had  a  strong  Spanish  flavor.  In 
Italy  you  expect  to  find  the  population  on  a 
festa  afternoon  assembled  in  a  piazza,  the  proper 
social  center  of  every  Italian  community;  in 
Spain  the  social  center  is  the  alameda,  a  long 
shaded  promenade  with  seats  and  space  for 
people  to  pace  and  talk.  In  the  interval  "  be- 
tween the  selections,"  we  paced  slowly  up  and 
down.  My  friend  was  a  person  of  distinction; 
all  the  best-dressed  people  bowed  very  low  to 
her.  At  one  end  of  the  Passeggiata  the  crowd 
was  so  great  that  we  halted  near  a  pool,  enclosed 
by  an  iron  railing. 

"  Ecco  la  fontana  Aretusa,'"   said   the  lady; 

she  had  been  so  busy  bowing  to  right  and  to 

361 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND   IN  SUN 

left,  that  she  had  hardly  spoken  since  we 
entered  the  drive.  The  Fountain  of  Arethusa! 
Another  of  Sicily's  delicious  surprises;  in  this 
fairy -land  you  meet  old  friends  every  moment. 

Arethusa!     At  her  very  name,  the  opening 
words    of    Shelley's    poem    ring    through    the 

memory ;  — 

"  Arethusa  arose 

From  her  couch  of  snows 
In  the  Acroceraunian  mountains; 

From  cloud  and  from  crag 

With  many  a  jag, 
Shepherding  her  bright  fountains." 

Arethusa,  you  remember .^^  the  lovely  maiden  of 
Elis,  who  was  seen  bathing  and  pursued  by  the 
river  god,  Alpheus.  The  maid,  appealing  to 
Artemis,  was  changed  to  a  fountain,  whereupon 
Alpheus  mingled  his  stream  with  hers,  and 
they  both  sank  into  the  earth,  passed  under  the 
sea,  and  rose  again  in  Ortygia: 

"  Like  friends  once  parted, 
Grown  single-hearted 


Like  spirits  that  lie 
In  the  azure  sky 
When  they  love,  but  live  no  more !  " 

Would  you  know  how  she  looks  to  an  artist? 

The  next  time  you  are  at  the  Metropolitan 

362 


SYRACUSE 

Museum  in  New  York,  look  at  George  Fuller's 
lovely  picture  of  Arethusa,  and  you  will 
learn. 

The  fountain  rises  from  an  arch  in  the  rock 
and  spreads  into  a  wide  picturesque  pool,  where 
papyrus  and  water  lilies  grow. 

The  concert  was  over,  the  band  put  up  their 
instruments,  the  crowd  began  to  disperse;  it 
was  time  to  leave  the  Passeggiata  Aretusa.  As 
we  drove  back  to  the  lady's  house  she  pointed 
out  a  large  building. 

*'  See,  they  have  nearly  finished  that  labor  — 
who  knows  when  it  would  have  been  done  if  it 
had  not  been  for  the  earthquake.'*  The  American 
Mees  Davis  had  a  hand  in  that." 

*'  You  know  Miss  Davis .^  "  I  asked. 

'*  If  I  know  her?  Per  Bacco,  who  does  not.^* 
I  tell  you  that  woman  is  a  marvel!  You  have 
heard  what  she  accomplished  after  the  earth- 
quake, she  and  the  German  Dr.  Colmers.^  We 
had  three  thousand  of  those  poor  creatures  to 
feed,  house  and  clothe.  Magari!  it  would  have 
gone  hard  without  the  help  of  that  woman  — 
and  what  influence,  what  power  she  possessed! 
She    had    but    to    ask,    no     matter    what,    it 

was  granted  —  money,  but  thousands  of  scudi; 

363 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND  IN  SUN 

work-rooms,  the  Sindaco  gave  her  three  in  the 
Palazzo  Municipale." 

Miss  Davis!  That  is  another  story;  it  has 
been  told  elsewhere,  will,  I  hope,  be  more  fully 
told  by  Miss  Davis  herself.  She  had  come  to 
Sicily  for  a  vacation,  having  so  overworked 
herself  that  the  trustees  of  her  Woman's  Prison 
at  Bedford  insisted  she  should  take  a  few 
months'  rest.  The  day  after  the  earthquake 
she  offered  her  services  for  relief  work.  Syracuse 
was  fortunate  in  having  a  good  Prefect,  a  good 
Mayor,  doubly  fortunate  in  having  two  women 
of  power  among  the  volunteers  —  Miss  Davis 
and  the  Marchesa  di  Rudini,  daughter  of  Mr. 
Labouchere,  the  editor  of  Truth.  Miss  Davis 
had  with  her  just  six  hundred  dollars;  this  she 
promptly  spent  for  the  relief  work.  Her  first 
purchase  was  two  hundred  francs'  worth  of 
pocket  handkerchiefs.  She  had  besides,  what 
the  American  Committee  in  Rome  had,  faith 
unlimited  in  the  heart  of  America;  that  is  bet- 
ter than  a  bank  account. 

"  From  the  point  of  view  of  actual  achieve- 
ment," writes  Mr.  Cutting,  "  and  also  of  ex- 
ample, Miss  Davis'  feat  at  Syracuse  seems  to 

me  the  most  important  single  contribution  to 

364 


SYRACUSE 

the  problem  of  rehabilitating  the  sufferers  from 
the  earthquake.*' 

This  praise  was  borne  out  by  all  we  saw  and 
heard  at  Syracuse. 

Miss  Davis  opened  a  hospital  for  the  wounded; 
and  work-rooms  where  all,  who  could  sew,  were 
employed  to  make  clothes  and  bedding  for  the 
horde  of  almost  naked  refugees  the  Russian, 
English,  German  as  well  as  the  Italian  ships 
brought  to  slumbrous  Syracuse.  She  was  one 
of  the  prime  movers  in  the  relief  work  at  Syra- 
cuse, that  the  Duke  of  Genoa  said  was  the  best 
organized  of  all  he  saw.  Each  man  was  set  to 
work  at  the  thing  he  could  do ;  the  tailors  made 
clothes,  the  cobblers  made  boots,  the  masons, 
carpenters  and  painters  were  employed  to  finish 
a  large  public  building  that  stood  half  com- 
pleted. So  these  poor  people  were  enabled 
from  the  first  to  earn  their  own  living,  to  escape 
the  dreadful  pauperization  that  in  Rome,  and 
almost  everywhere  else,  confronted  them.  There 
remained  the  "  poor  things,"  the  men  who  had 
no  skill,  no  trade;  what  work  could  be  invented 
for  them.f^  Miss  Davis  was  now  entrusted  with 
large  sums  of  money,  the  spending  of  it  was  left 

to  her  judgment.     From  the  first  she  maintained 

365 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND  IN  SUN 

that  among  the  able  bodied,  only  those  who 
worked  could  be  fed.  It  would  have  been  far 
easier  to  issue  rations,  or  so  much  money  a  day 
to  the  profughi:  those  methods  did  not  suit  the 
*'  Angel  of  Mercy."  She  looked  about  her, 
found  the  roads  in  a  bad  condition;  organized 
and  kept  at  work  a  road  gang,  mending  the 
roads  of  Syracuse. 

The  tributes  Miss  Davis  received  are  won- 
derfully touching.  A  poor  organist  from  Mes- 
sina composed  a  song  in  her  honor,  dedicated 
to  the  Tortorella  (turtle  dove);  the  Sindaco 
sent  her  a  diploma  of  honor,  beautifully  en- 
grossed with  the  coat-of-arms  of  the  city; 
most  precious  of  all  is  the  address,  signed  by  a 
long  list  of  her  profughi,  addressed  to  the 
"  Gentile  Miss,'"  the  sublime  "  Heroine  of 
Charity,"  who  is  saluted  *'  in  the  name  of  the 
great  heart  of  Ortygia,  the  center  of  the  ancient 
world!  " 

"  After  Taormina,  Girgenti  is  the  most  beauti- 
ful place  in  Sicily,"  Patsy  declared. 

"  Some   people    say    Taormina    is    the    most 

beautiful     place     on     earth;    if    you    like    to 

measure  —  " 

366 


SYRACUSE 

"  I  don't  —  I  couldn't  —  so  many  places 
seem  best !  Wait  till  you  see  the  temples  though ; 
there's  nothing  to  compare  with  them  outside 
Athens." 

We  had  arrived  at  the  port  of  Empedocles 
at  sunset,  and  driven  through  the  violet  dusk 
up  to  the  town,  glowing  like  a  jewelled  city 
on  the  heights  overlooking  river  and  harbor. 
I  had  gone  direct  to  the  comfortable  Hotel  des 
Temples,  a  mile  outside  Girgente,  where  again 
as  at  Syracuse  we  were  the  only  guests.  When 
we  met  at  breakfast,  Patsy  had  already  ex- 
plored the  place. 

"  We  ought  to  have  kept  more  time  for  this," 
he  said;  "  for  us  it's  even  more  interesting 
than  Syracuse." 

"  Girgenti  —  "I  began. 

"  Call  it  Acragas,  the  Greek  name,  or  at  least 
Agrigentum,  the  Roman,"  Patsy  interrupted. 
**  I've  made  friends  with  the  custode  of  the 
Temple  of  Zeus;  he's  like  the  others,  a  superior 
man  —  here  in  Sicily  they  all  seem  a  cut  above 
the  same  sort  on  the  mainland." 

Breakfast  over,  I    was    hurried    to    see   the 

Temple   of  Zeus  and  Patsy's  new   friend.     He 

welcomed  us  with   effusion  and  lamented  the 

367 


SICILY   IN   SHADOW  AND   IN   SUN 

scarcity  of  tourists.  Patsy  asked  him  to  what 
nationality  the  larger  part  of  his  traveling 
public  belonged. 

"  German,"  he  said.  '*  I  always  know  them 
because  they  walk." 

"  They  are  economical?  " 

"  In  part  for  that  reason,  also  because  they 
see  more  on  foot  than  driving." 

*'  Americans  all  come  in  cabs.''  " 

"It  is  true,  but  they  are  mostly  ladies. 
Touching  those  Germans,  before  1870  they 
traveled  very  little;  now  they  come  in  crowds. 
The  Kaiser  sets  the  fashion;  he  comes  every 
spring  to  Syracuse,  often  to  Girgenti.  What 
a  lot  of  German  architects  and  men  of  science 
were  here  this  time  last  year!  They  study, 
they  measure,  they  make  drawings,  they  return, 
they  measure  again  —  oh,  intelligent !  One 
cannot  deny  it,  if  not  so  sympathetic  as  others 
—  Americani  for  example." 

The  Temple  of  Zeus  is  a  vast  ruin;  hardly 
one  stone  remains  standing  on  another.  The 
mighty  pillars  lie  where  they  sank;  their  bases 
are  still  in  place,  the  drums  that  composed 
them  have  fallen  asunder;  you  can  trace  the 
relation  of  part  to  part  as  they  lie  forlorn  and 

368 


SYRACUSE 

disjointed  on  the  earth.  A  sandstone  giant, 
that  once  upheld  the  roof,  lies  on  the  ground; 
he  reminds  us  of  the  Colossus  at  Thebes,  even 
more  of  the  carved  wood  colossi  that  held  up 
the  great  organ  of  the  old  Boston  Music  Hall. 
The  Temple  of  Heracles,  near  the  Temple  of 
Zeus,  is  no  better  preserved;  these  vast  ruins 
arouse  a  feeling  of  sadness  and  confusion.  To 
what  end  were  they  erected,  with  such  in- 
credible labor,  if  they  were  to  be  so  utterly 
destroyed.'^  It  was  futile,  discouraging,  hope- 
less! 

"There,  there!"  said  Patsy,  "that's  the 
reason  I  brought  you  here  first.  Now  come 
and  see  the  great  glory!  " 

"  Notice  one  thing  more,"  said  the  custode, 
pointing  to  a  bit  of  cornice  that  lay  protected 
from  the  weather  by  a  large  fragment.  "  You 
see  this  white  coating  like  fine  stucco.^  The  six 
temples  of  Girgenti  were  all  built  of  sandstone, 
yet  they  must  look  like  marble.  Oh!  the 
ancients  knew  some  things  we  have  forgotten! 
White  marble  was  brought  from  Greece,  ground 
to  a  powder,  mixed  with  mastic  and  spread 
over   the   sandstone;    the  temples   of   Girgenti 

shone  white  as  the  Parthenon  itself.'* 

369 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND  IN   SUN 

"  I  should  like  to  think  so,'*  sighed  Patsy; 
"  now  they  tell  us  the  marble  surface  was 
painted  over  with  blue,  red  and  green  decora- 
tions." 

"  It  was  a  protection  as  well,"  said  the  cus- 
tode.  "  See,  the  stone  is  friable;  if  it  had  not 
been  for  so  many  centuries  covered  with  this 
stucco,  it  would  have  been  worn  away  by  the 
sirocco." 

We  walked  through  olive  and  almond  groves 
to  the  Temple  of  Juno,  standing  lonely  and 
grand  on  the  edge  of  a  precipice.  Lavender 
morning-glories,  blue  iris,  yellow  daisies,  grow 
about  the  broad  steps.  After  the  desolate  ruins 
we  had  seen,  this  looked,  in  comparison,  almost 
a  complete  building.  We  climbed  the  stair 
to  the  roof;  against  the  gray-green  of  the  olives, 
the  emerald  of  the  almond  trees,  the  flower- 
gemmed  grass,  the  rich  amber  color  of  the 
colonnade  glowed  dull  in  the  sunlight. 

'*  It's  more  like  Psestum  than  anything  else," 
said  Patsy,  "  only  I  do  not  find  the  roses  of 
Paestum  that  bloom  twice  in  the  year.  Will 
a  bit  of  myrtle  do  as  well.'^  " 

The  Temple  of  Concord,  even  better  pre- 
served than  the  Juno,  is  the  most  admired.   The 

370 


SYRACUSE 

site  of  the  Juno  is  more  picturesque;  the  stair- 
case to  the  roof  gives  an  extraordinary  sense  of 
nearness  to  the  time  when  this  was  a  Hving 
place  of  worship,  not  a  dead  ruin. 

At  the  Cathedral  of  Girgenti  instead  of  being 
made  much  of,  we  were  made  to  feel  that  we 
were  in  the  way  —  they  were  preparing  for 
the  services  of  Passion  Week  —  no  time  for 
forestierif  a  resolute  monk  gave  us  to  understand ; 
—  we  managed  to  steal  a  look  at  a  lovely  marble 
sarcophagus,  with  scenes  from  the  tragic  story 
of  Hippolytus  carved  in  high  relief.  We  went 
to  the  Museum,  a  neglected  dreamy  place 
with  a  few  real  treasures:  an  archaic  marble 
statue  of  Apollo,  very  lovely,  with  the  fixed 
iEginetan  smile;  a  gold  belt,  three  thousand 
years  old,  with  a  buckle  exactly  like  one  I 
wore. 

"  The  Signori  are  Americans.^  "  A  handsome 
old  man,  poring  over  a  big  book,  looked  up  at 
us,  as  he  asked  the  question  of  the  attendant. 
The  man  whispered  something  in  his  ear;  then 
the  old  gentleman  closed  the  book  and  came  to 
greet  us  with  his  faraway  smile. 

"  That  grand  and  majestic  country,  America, 

is  not  egotistical,"  he  explained  when  he  had 

371 


SICIIA'   IN   SHADOW   AND   IN   SUN 

welcomed  us  to  Girgenti.  "  What  vibrant 
sympathy  it  has  shown  our  country!  We  are 
egotists,  it  is  the  curse  of  our  people;  but  I 
revere  America  most,  for  the  wondrous  new 
science  that  has  come  from  there."  He  beck- 
oned us  to  look  at  his  big  book;  an  Italian 
translation  of  a  vulgar  work  on  spiritualism, 
illustrated  with  cheap  spirit  photographs. 

"  The  last  thing  I  should  have  expected  to 
find  in  Agrigentum!  "  sighed  Patsy. 

"  You  have  some  knowledge  of  spiritismo.'^  " 
said  the  stranger. 

"  Oh  yes,  we  know  all  about  it!  "  Patsy 
assured  him. 

"  Last  night  I  paced  up  and  down  the  room 
for  twenty  minutes  with  the  great  Sesostris  — 
it  was  his  wish  to  talk  with  me,  the  medium, 
a  wonderful  woman,  ascertained." 

"  How  did  Sesostris  look.^  " 

"Majestical!  He  was  dressed  all  in  white; 
though  not  so  tall  as  I,  he  has  a  noble  bearing." 

"  What  did  he  say?  " 

Little  that  was  new,  it  appeared,  though  the 

old    gentleman    repeated    the   conversation,    as 

well  as  those  of  Plato  and  Socrates,  with  whom 

he  often   talked.     WTiile  he  rambled  on,  the 

372 


SYRACUSE 

attendant,  a  fat  perspiring  man,  was  visibly 
embarrassed  —  he  too  wished  to  talk  about 
America.  As  we  took  our  leave  he  found  his 
chance. 

"  Behold,  this  came  from  San  Francisco,"  he 
pointed  to  a  hideous  porcelain  medallion,  with 
a  photograph  of  a  man  and  a  woman,  hanging 
from  his  buttonhole,  "  a  portrait  of  my  son 
and  his  wife,  7ion  c  e  male?  " 

"  The  Signori  will  return?  "  said  the  old  man, 
hovering  between  us  and  his  big  book.  "  They 
will  let  me  be  of  some  service  to  them.'^  " 

We  would  gladly  have  returned,  our  new 
friend  is  one  of  the  most  learned  archeologists 
in  Sicily;  but,  alas,  he  would  only  speak  of 
materializations  and  controls  —  his  book  was 
full  of  the  gross  impostures  we  used  to  hear 
about  years  ago,  before  the  high-grade  mediums 
of  these  later  days  and  their  dupes  came  to  the 
fore. 

"  Think  of  the  things  he  could  have  told  us!  " 
groaned  Patsy.    "  What  a  wasted  opportunity !  " 

Not  far  from  the  Museum  we  passed  a 
flaring  placard  with  the  words : 

"  At  the  Theatre  of  Empedocles  will  be  pre- 
sented  the   Cinematograph  of  Edison."    Here 

373 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND  IN   SUN 

in  ancient  Syracuse,  the  ends  of  the  earth  are 
brought  together  —  Empedocles  and  Edison; 
what  a  combination! 

My  last  impression  of  Girgenti  is  of  our  visit 
to  a  httle  church  —  the  name  is  forgotten  — 
and  of  Patsy's  chatter  about  what  we  saw  there. 

"  This,"  he  said,  as  we  walked  along  a  dusty 
road  of  "  splendor-loving  Acragas,"  "  is  the 
Temple  to  Demeter  and  Persephone,  though 
you  wouldn't  know  it  if  I  didn't  tell  you." 

The  little  church  shows  few  traces  of  the 
ancient  temple.  Its  chief  treasure  is  a  famous 
crucifix,  that  hangs  against  the  wall,  surrounded 
by  votive  offerings,  wax  models  of  hands,  feet, 
breasts  and  stomachs  (very  like  those  of  terra- 
cotta I  saw  at  the  Temple  of  Juno  in  Veii),  the 
most  gross  things  of  the  kind  I  have  seen  in  a 
Christian  church. 

"  A  lady  who  had  paralysis  of  the  hands,"  said 

the  cripple  who  served  as  cicerone,  **  promised 

the  Lord,  if  he  would  cure  her,  to  pay  him  this 

compliment.      Eccelenza,  she  had  faith  —  aime 

if  we  all  had  her  faith  —  she  was  cured.     My 

grandmother    herself    saw    this    thing.      Those 

two  wax  arms  she  hung  up  in  gratitude,  they 

cost  a  horror;   she  gave  the  'prete  ten  francs  as 

374 


SYRACUSE 

well  for  the  poor.  It  is  a  miraculous  crucifix, 
davvero,  but  to  deserve  the  miracle  one  must 
have  faith!  " 

From  an  olive  grove  came  the  sound  of  a 
shepherd's  flute;  the  thin  sweet  music  of  the 
pastorale  was  the  only  sound  that  broke  the 
noontide  quiet  as  we  sat  outside  the  old  temple 
of  Demeter  and  Persephone,  dreaming! 

"  It  all  happened  here,"  said  Patsy.  "  It  was 
through  these  very  fields  Persephone  wandered 
picking  violets  when  Pluton,  king  of  Hades, 
sprang  from  a  dark  cave  and  carried  her  off  to 
his  kingdom  underground.  Then  came  the 
mother  Demeter,  in  her  hands  the  sceptre,  corn, 
and  the  mystic  basket,  searching  for  her  lost 
daughter;  she  lighted  Etna  for  a  torch  to  show 
the  way;  she  looked  high  and  low,  she  asked  all 
she  met  for  news  of  her  child.  Kyane,  Per- 
sephone's playmate,  alone  had  met  Pluton 
carrying  off  the  maid,  and  because  she  begged 
him  to  set  free  her  friend,  Kyane  was  turned 
into  a  beautiful  spring  (that  very  spring  where 
the  custodes  son  went  for  papyrus).  The  voice 
of  Demeter  was  heard  calling  Persephone,  Per- 
sephone, through  these  very  fields  and  meadows. 

In  vain!    Persephone,   even  if    she  heard  her 

375 


SICILY  IN   SHADOW  AND   IN   SUN 

mother's  voice  in  the  dark  kingdom  of  the 
dead,  could  not  return;  she  had  eaten  the 
seed  of  the  pomegranate,  she  was  the  wife  of 
Pkiton.  There  was  a  great  to-do;  Olympus  was 
shaken  to  its  foundations.  Demeter  refused 
to  attend  the  counsel  of  the  gods,  she  laid  a 
spell  upon  the  land  so  that  it  bore  no  fruit,  no 
wheat,  and  was  threatened  by  famine.  In  the 
end  however  the  matter  was  arranged,  the  family 
became  reconciled.  Zeus  gave  Sicily  to  Per- 
sephone, as  a  wedding  gift;  the  daughter  now 
spends  half  the  year  in  her  mother's  house,  and 
half  in  her  husband's." 

So  he  repeated  the  lovely  old  fable-allegory 
of  the  seed  hidden  in  the  earth  half  the  year, 
and  half  the  year  alive  again.  Ho\v  it  echoes 
in  the  thunder  of  the  burial  service! 

"It  is  sown  a  natural  body;  it  is  raised  a 
spiritual  body." 

Paul  had  been  at  Eleusis;  he  knew  the 
mysteries,  had  perhaps  seen  the  ancient  marble 
bas-relief  in  the  temple  there  of  Demeter  laying 
in  the  hand  of  Triptolemus  the  precious  grains 
of  corn ! 


376 


PALERMO      VILLA  TASCA. 


PALERMO.     VILLA  D'ORLEANS. 


PALERMO.     FOUNTAIN  OF  THE  PRETORIA. 


PALERMO.     CHURCH  OF  SAN  GIOVANNI.     Page  393. 


XIII 
PALERMO 

"  Prima  sedes,  corona  regis,  et  regni  caput." 

As  we  approached  Palermo  the  pulse  of  life 
quickened;  at  every  station  carloads  of  mer- 
chandise awaited  transportation,  golden  oranges, 
paler  gold  citrons,  sacks  of  almonds,  casks  of 
wine,  vast  quantities  of  sumach. 

At  Castel  Termini,  near  the  great  sulphur 
mines,  stood  long  freight  trains  laden  with  huge 
fragments  of  beautiful  yellow  sulphur. 

'*  Remember  that  day  the  smoke  lifted  and 
we  got  a  good  look  into  the  crater  of  Vesuvius.^  " 
said  Patsy.  "  You  were  very  much  taken  up 
with  the  pale  yellow  velvet  lining  of  the  crater, 
and  wanted  to  rip  it  out  for  an  opera  cloak. 
That  brimstone  is  exactly  the  same  color;  I 
suppose  it's  the  same  stuff." 

At  Acquaviva  there  were  more  freight  trains 
loaded  with  blocks  of  sparkling  rock  salt. 

*'  Salt  must  be  cheaper  here  than  in  Rome," 

said  Patsy.    "  When  I  asked  your  Agnese  for  a 

377 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND  IN  SUN 

handful  to  put  in  the  electric  battery,  she 
was  horrified  at  my  extravagance." 

*'  Agnese  buys  it  by  the  pound  at  the  tobac- 
conist's;   it  costs  like  gold  dust." 

Here  a  fat  gentleman  reared  up  from  his 
nest  of  newspapers  in  the  corner.  "  Salt  is  free 
in  Sicily,"  he  said;  "  we  do  not  tax  it  as  they 
do  in  Italy.  For  a  few  soldi  you  can  buy  a 
kilo  of  the  best,  the  most  fine.  What  you  see  is 
mineral  salt,  virgin  salt,  and  comes  from  a  cave 
in  the  top  of  the  mountain;  there  is  none  to 
compare  with  it!  " 

"  There  is  no  salt  tax  in  Sicily,"  said  a  small 
neat  man  who  looked  an  avvocato.  "  It  would 
be  useless;  each  one  would  then  make  his  own. 
You  need  only  take  water  from  the  sea,  put  it 
in  a  pan,  set  it  in  the  sun  —  via!  the  water 
evaporates,  and  leaves  salt  as  good  as  this!  " 

"  Not  so  good!  "  roared  the  fat  man,  '*  miser- 
able, inferior  salt!  "  The  veins  in  his  neck 
swelled  with  anger. 

"  Isn't  all  salt  pretty  much  alike?  "  Patsy 
put  in  soothingly. 

"  Per  Bacco,  no!  It  is  all  different.  The  salt 
from  the  sea,  who  knows  what  nastiness  gets 

into  it?     This  salt,  pure  and  fresh  from  the 

378 


PALERMO 

bowels  of  the  earth,  has  soda  and  other  valuable 
minerals  mixed  with  it;  there  is  no  comparison, 
me  spiego?  "  (Do  I  explain  myself?)  "  Here, 
go  thou,  Teodoro;  bring  a  little  bit  of  salt 
that  these  signori  may  know  I  speak  the 
truth!" 

Teodoro,  a  handsome  bearded  young  man  in 
high  brown  shooting  boots,  had  just  entered  the 
carriage;  we  had  noticed  him  walking  up  and 
down  the  platform  with  a  pair  of  pointers  in 
leash. 

*'  Va  bene."  Teodoro  nodded  good-naturedly 
to  the  fat  man,  evidently  his  father,  left  the 
car,  and  walked  leisurely  across  the  tracks  to 
the  freight  train,  followed  by  a  porter.  He 
touched  a  cake  of  shining  crystalline  salt  too 
big  for  one  man  to  carry. 

**  Pronto!  "  cried  the  guard,  lifting  his  horn. 

"  Wait,"  roared  the  angry  man,  thrusting  his 
head  from  the  window.  "  Che  animale  1  don't 
you  see  my  son.^  " 

**  Break  it,  corpo  di  Bacco !  break  it," 
laughed  Teodoro.  The  porter  pushed  the  glit- 
tering block  of  salt  from  the  truck.  It  crashed 
on    the    pavement    broken    in    two.      Teodoro 

picked  up  the  larger  piece,  dusted  the  splinters 

379 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND   IN   SUN 

from  his  coat,  then  without  a  sign  of  haste 
stepped  on  board. 

"  They  must  be  great  chiefs,"  murmured 
Patsy,  as  the  guard  tootled  his  horn,  and  the 
train  crawled  out  of  the  station. 

"  A  thousand  thanks,"  I  said  to  Teodoro, 
as  he  put  the  salt  in  the  net  over  our  heads. 
"  It's  too  bad  to  give  so  much  trouble." 

"  Nothing  —  a  pleasure!  "  Teodoro  had  the 
nicest  laugh,  the  whitest  teeth.  He  and  Patsy 
made  friends  on  the  spot.  They  sat  chatting 
gaily  by  the  further  window  while  the  angry 
father  wrangled  with  the  little  avvocato,  who 
exasperated  him  more  and  more  every  time  he 
spoke.  They  were  in  the  midst  of  a  hot  dispute 
when  the  angry  man  broke  off  to  point  out  a 
trolley  that  runs  from  the  top  of  the  mountain 
to  the  station  where  the  salt  is  loaded  on  the 
trains. 

*'  Guardi,  Signora,  there  is  the  place  where  this 
pure,  this  exquisite  salt  is  excavated  from  the 
entrails  of  the  earth.    Me  spiego  ?  " 

We  had  just  reached  a  white  river.    Its  banks 

were  lined  with  nespole,  palms,  fig  trees,  gray 

asphodels,  bushes  of  green  carob.     From  the  top 

of  the  mountain  one  cobweb  line  of  black  crossed 

380 


PALERMO 

another;  two  iron  baskets  passed  each  other 
on  the  aerial  railway,  one  ascending  empty, 
the  other  descending  laden  with  shining  salt. 

"  What  a  pleasure  to  see  life,  movement, 
activity  after  the  desolation  of  Calabria  and 
Messina!  "  Patsy  exclaimed. 

^' Daiwero!     This  should  be  a  rich  country; 
our  people  are  hard  working,  frugal.     We  need 
only  a  little  foreign  capital  to  restore  La  Sicilia 
to  her  ancient  greatness.     Crispi  ^  saw  that  — 
if  we  only  had  a  few  such  men  today!  " 

"  I  have  heard  Crispi  speak  in  the  Camera  — 
what  an  orator!  Once  at  Baron  Blanc's  I 
talked  with  him,"  I  murmured. 

"As  to  capital,"  said  Patsy,  "  are  your  taxes 
favorable  to  foreign  investors.^  I  met  a  man 
last  winter  from  New  York  representing  a 
syndicate;  he  had  five  millions  to  invest  in 
Sardinian  mines.  He  looked  into  it,  found  the 
taxes  prohibitive,  and  left  Italy  w^ithout  spend- 
ing a  cent.  All  that  good  money  is  now  in- 
vested in  the  Argentine." 

"  Taxes !  We  do  not  tax  lemons  as  you  do 
in  the  United  States;  on  the  contrary  in  the 
summer,  when  they  are  necessary  to  the  health 

*  Francesco  Crispi,  the  great  Sicilian  patriot  and  statesnian. 

381 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND   IN  SUN 

of  the  people,  they  are  sold  in  our  great  cities 
by  the  Government  at  less  than  cost!  " 

*'  Has  us  there!  "  said  Patsy.  "  People  in 
New  York  are  paying  forty  cents  a  dozen  for 
lemons  while  millions  of  them  rot  on  the  trees 
of  Sicily  because  —  on  account  of  our  damnable 
tariff  —  it's  not  worth  while  to  gather  them!  " 

We  were  passing  a  small  forlorn  station 
without  stopping. 

"Behold!"  The  angry  man  pointed  to  a 
lemon  grove  that  bordered  the  track.  "  What 
a  beautiful  picture!  " 

The  trees  were  bowed  down  with  the  weight 
of  lemons;  the  ground  beneath  was  yellow  with 
the  precious  fruit  that  would  lie  there  till  it  had 
turned  black  with  decay. 

"  We  have  to  thank  America  for  that/*  said 
the  angry  man. 

"  Say  something  to  that  rude  person,"  I 
whispered  to  Patsy. 

'*  There's  nothing  to  say;  he  has  us  on  the 
hip." 

*'  What  does  it  mean?  " 

"  How  can  you  expect  a  waif  of  the  universe, 

just  back  from  the  Argentine,  to  know  the  ins 

and  outs?     It's  some  beastly  log  rolling.     The 

382 


PALERMO 

lemon-growers  in  Florida,  California,  —  how  do 
I  know  what  States  have  swapped  votes  with 
some  of  the  big  fellows,  —  you  protect  me,  I'll 
protect  you!  " 

*'  Politics,  all  politics,"  roared  the  father  of 
Teodoro.  "  Una  porcheria,  mud,  mud!  I 
know;  my  son  here  has  just  been  defeated  at 
the  election  by  an  animal!  This  one  gave  each 
voter  five  francs.  *  Elect  me,'  he  said;  '  when 
I  am  elected,  come  back;  I  will  give  you  five 
francs  more.'  This  piggery  all  comes  to  us 
from  America.  The  Signori  can  tell  us.  Is 
there  not  bribery  and  rioting  at  your  elections?  " 

"  As  to  bribery,"  said  Patsy,  "  I  suppose  that 
has  existed  since  the  beginning  of  time.  Rioting? 
The   elections    go    off    quietly    enough   in    our 

tOWTl." 

"  Quietly,  per  Dio!    Last  night  I  was  at  the 

Cafe  Greco  when  Z.,  who  writes  the  articles 

signed  Piff  Paff,  was  there.     Tale  came  in  and 

said  to  him :     '  So  it  is  you  who  please  yourself 

in  writing  lies  about  me?  '  This  one  took  a  chair, 

that  one  a  bench  —  pim  poom !     Mirrors  were 

smashed,  bottles    broken,  a  farce  —  piggery  — 

me  spiego?  " 

"  The  elections  should  have  been  put  off," 

383 


SICILY  IN   SHADOW   AND   IN   SUN 

said  the  small  avvocato.  "  We  in  Sicily  have 
enough  at  this  moment  without  that  business; 
but  no,  the  politicians  care  more  about  keeping 
their  men  in  than  about  their  distracted  country, 
desolated,  ruined  by  the  most  consummate 
disaster  the  world  has  seen!  " 

Grudgingly  Teodoro's  father  agreed;  he  would 
have  preferred  to  disagree.  A  man  of  intelli- 
gence, feeling,  sentiment,  not  a  man  of  power. 

He  had  a  low  forehead,  dark,  angry  eyes,  a 
swart  color  that  showed  Saracen  descent.  All 
his  good  qualities  —  I  am  sure  there  were  many 
—  were  nullified  by  his  volcanic  temper,  that 
without  rhyme  or  reason  burst  forth,  devastating 
the  hour  as  an  eruption  of  Etna  blasts  the 
lovely  vineyards  and  olive  groves,  and  turns 
them  into  burnt  lands  that  produce  nothing. 

In  the  silence  that  followed,  Teodoro's  gay 
lilting  voice  was  heard  imparting  advice  to 
Patsy. 

"  For  Palermitan  dishes?  Go  to  the  Ris- 
torante  Trinacria,  order  pasta  con  sarde,  baccala 
a  ghiotto,  melone  d'inverno,  zibibbi,  a  fiasco  of 
Vino  di  Zucco  —  Ah,  behold  us  arrived  at 
Termini  —  here  is  made  the  best  pasta  (maca- 
roni) in  Sicilia." 

384 


PALERMO 

At  Trabia  the  little  avvocato  hopped  briskly 
off  the  train  and  returned  carefully  carrying  his 
bandana  handkerchief  filled  with  eggs. 

"They  cost  a  horror  at  Palermo;  my  wife 
always  asks  me  this  favor,"  he  explained,  as  he 
stowed  away  three  dozen  eggs  in  his  lawyer's 
bag. 

After  Trabia  our  fellow  travelers  fell  asleep 
worn  out  by  much  conversation,  and  we  were 
left  to  enjoy  the  marvelous  scenery  as  we 
approached  the  Conca  d'Oro,  the  Golden  Shell 
in  whose  midst  stands  Palermo,  the  old  Panor- 
mus  —  all-haven  —  of  the  Greeks.  The  road 
runs  between  the  mountains  on  the  right  and 
the  sea  on  the  left,  —  a  narrow  strip  of  land 
'twixt  yellow  sands  and  gray-green  hills.  Now 
and  then  we  caught  a  glimpse  of  some  valley 
of  paradise,  with  locust  and  Judas  trees  among 
the  groves  of  oranges  and  lemons  with  their 
"  golden  lamps  in  a  green  night."  We  passed 
many  Saracen  water-wheels  with  irrigating 
trenches  running  through  fertile  fields.  Between 
the  exquisite  airy  blue  hills  that  jut  out  into 
the  sea  and  the  emerald  valleys,  the  way  crossed 
many  torrenti,  dry  stony  water-courses  descend- 
ing from  the  mountains  to  the  shore.     These 

385 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND  IN  SUN 

torrenti  (the  first  we  saw  was  the  Torrente 
Zaera  at  Messina)  are  characteristic  of  Sicily. 
For  a  short  time  in  early  summer,  when  the 
snows  on  Etna  and  the  Madonia  mountains  are 
melting,  there  is  water  in  them,  but  for  the 
greater  part  of  the  year  they  are  empty  ravines. 
J.  saw  them  used  in  turn  for  roads  —  he  even 
went  through  one  in  an  automobile  —  for  stone 
quarries,  for  gravel  and  sand  pits,  and  for  the 
washing  and  drying  of  clothes. 

Sicily,  the  granary  of  the  Romans,  still  bears 
three  simultaneous  crops  in  the  neighborhood 
of  Palermo.  We  saw  olive  groves  planted  with 
grape  vines  and  wheat,  —  all  three  seeming  to 
thrive.  The  suicidal  destruction  of  the  forests 
has  had  the  same  terrific  effect  upon  Sicily  that 
we  saw  in  Spain,  that  we  see  today  in  the  United 
States.  After  the  arid,  poorly  cultivated  regions 
we  had  passed  through,  it  was  comforting  to  rest 
our  eyes  on  the  lovely  verdure,  that,  thanks  to 
the  Arabs,  still  surrounds  Palermo.  The  in- 
numerable wells,  pumping  machines,  norias, 
the  astonishing  richness  of  the  soil,  reminded 
us  at  every  step  of  Granada,  the  lost  paradise 
of  the  Moor.     Here,  in  the  Conca  d'Oro,  as  in 

Granada,  the  labor  of  those  truly  great  agricul- 

386 


PALERMO 

turalists,  the  Arabs,  still  beautifies  and  enriches 
the  land  they  loved. 

Looking  down  upon  the  Golden  Shell  from  a 
height,  the  plain  seems  literally  paved  with  the 
gold  of  oranges,  lemons,  mandarins  and  citrons. 
It  is  one  immense  continuous  fruit  grove  of  the 
orange  tribe,  intermixed  with  Japanese  medlars, 
mulberries,  almonds,  figs  and  olives.  The 
Conca  d'Oro  takes  its  name  not  only  from  its 
extraordinary  fertility,  but  from  its  shape. 
Behind  Palermo  the  airy  mountains  draw  to- 
gether, the  plain  narrows  almost  to  a  vanishing 
point;  as  it  approaches  the  sea  it  widens  out 
into  what  is  variously  called  a  shell  or  a  cornu- 
copia. 

Palermo  is  alive!    When  still  far  off  we  had 

felt  its  life  pulse  throbbing  stronger  and  stronger; 

when  we  were  in  its  midst,  we  knew  this  was 

the  heart  of  Sicily.     We  arrived  at  the  Hotel 

des  Palmes  in  good  time  for  dinner.     The  fine 

dining-room  was  filled  with  gaily  dressed  Paler- 

mitans.    After  the  loneliness  of  Syracuse  and 

Girgenti  it  was  pleasant  to  find  ourselves  again 

among  people  full  of  the  business  life.     Even 

at  the  Timeo  in  Taormina,  we  had  been  in  the 

shadow  of  the  disaster;    all  the  Sicilians  there 

387 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND  IN  SUN 

were  in  deepest  mourning;  the  few  foreigners 
were  all  connected  in  one  way  or  another  with 
the  earthquake. 

At  the  next  table  to  ours  sat  General  Mazza, 
his  wife  and  their  charming  young  son.  There 
was  much  jesting,  and  we  heard  the  words 
Pesce  d'Aprile  continually.  Across  the  room 
at  another  table  sat  a  pair  of  beauties  in  blue 
and  rose  color,  the  center  of  attraction.  Young 
Mazza  was  called  away  in  the  middle  of  dinner 
by  a  message  that  a  lady  must  speak  to  him 
at  the  telephone.  Looking  very  important,  the 
boy  left  the  room.  Then  the  word  was  passed 
(all  the  guests  seemed  to  know  each  other  well) 
that  this  was  a  Pesce  d'Aprile.  The  young 
fellow  returned  to  find  the  pretty  girls  scoffing, 
the  elders  on  a  broad  grin.  He  blushed  furiously 
as  he  sat  down  at  the  table  again,  where  the 
General,  his  father,  very  gorgeous  in  a  hand- 
some uniform,  and  his  vivacious  mother  re- 
ceived him  with  jeers.  He  made  an  amusing 
gesture  to  his  tormentors,  hammering  one 
thumbnail  upon  the  other. 

"  Hello,  it's  the  first  of  April ;  Pesce  d'Aprile  is 
their  name  for  April  fool !  '*  said  Patsy. 

How  good  it  was  to  hear  their  merry  laughter, 
388 


PALERMO 

to  see  these  young  people  brimming  over  with 
the  joy  of  Hfe! 

After  dinner  we  sat  in  the  long  corridor  and, 
while  the  Palermitans  read  their  papers,  flirted, 
drank  coflFee,  and  smoked  cigarettes,  Patsy  and 
I,  like  two  traveling  merchants,  took  account 
of  our  stock  of  knowledge. 

"  What  do  we  know  about  Palermo?  " 

First  of  all  we  know  its  agony.  A  city, 
like  a  man,  is  remembered  longest  for  what  it 
has  suffered.  Sicily  has  had  three  great  agonies; 
they  loom  large  through  the  mists  of  history 
as  the  three  promontories  of  Trinacria  loom  out 
through  the  sea  mists  to  the  sailor  feeling  his 
way  around  the  island. 

First:  The  Athenian  defeat  at  Syracuse. 

Second:  The  Sicilian  Vespers  at  Palermo. 

Third:  The  great  earthquake  at  Messina. 

The  Sicilian  Vespers  is  the  name  given  to  that 

terrible  uprising  of  the  Sicilians  in  the  year  1282, 

when  the  people  turned  against  their  French 

king,  Charles  of  iVnjou.    The  fire  of  revolt  had 

long  smouldered,  and  it  was  blown  to  a  flame 

on    Easter    Monday   when    a    French    officer 

named  Drouet  grossly  insulted  a  Sicilian  woman. 

Her  husband  avenged   the  outrage  by  killing 

389 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND  IN  SUN 

the  officer.  Just  as  the  bells  of  Santo  Spirito, 
a  church  of  Palermo,  rang  for  the  vesper  service, 
the  voice  of  the  angry  husband  roused  the 
holiday  crowd: 

"  Now  let  these  Frenchmen  die  at  last!'* 

The  cry  echoed  through  the  length  and 
breadth  of  Sicily,  and  every  French  man,  woman, 
and  child  in  the  island  was  massacred;  the 
insult  was  wiped  out  in  seas  of  blood ! 

Palermo,  or  Panormus,  never  amounted  to 
much  in  the  old  Greek  time  when  Syracuse  was 
mistress  of  Sicily.  It's  so  alive  now,  because, 
like  Rome,  it  has  lived  a  long  life  and  is  still 
vigorous.  Its  greatness  really  began  when,  in 
the  ninth  century  of  our  era,  the  Saracens  came, 
saw,  and  conquered  the  island  and  made  Pa- 
lermo their  capital.  First  the  Saracen,  then  the 
Norman,  last  the  Spaniard,  have  held  and  loved 
Palermo;  these  three  have  ruled  her,  made  her 
what  she  is,  left  their  mark  upon  her.  We  have 
already  seen  the  Moor's  vivifying  touch,  in  the 
springs  that  murmur,  the  fountains  that  dance, 
in  the  earth  still  bright  with  flower  and  fruit 
he  planted,  rich  with  the  wheat  he  watered! 

The  Normans!     Their  conquest  of  Sicily  is 

just  as  remarkable,  quite  as  romantic  as  their 

390 


w 

.  ai. 
o  o 

a:  a: 
w  < 
-I  S 
< 
a. 


PALERMO 

conquest  of  England.  We  know  comparatively 
little  about  it,  because  we  have  not  the  same 
keen  interest  in  what  befell  Sicily  as  in  all 
that  happened  to  mother  England,  but  for 
their  contemporaries  there  must  have  been 
little  to  choose  between  the  importance  of 
William  the  Conqueror  and  his  strong  breed, 
and  those  twelve  stout  sons  of  old  Tancred 
de  Hauteville  who,  from  the  condition  of  Nor- 
man squires  of  Cotentin,  became  in  one  genera- 
tion, kings  of  Sicily,  the  richest  island  of  the 
Mediterranean.  The  Battle  of  Hastings  took 
place  in  1066;  in  1061  Robert  Guiscard,  and 
his  brother  Roger,  the  Great  Count,  sons  of  old 
Tancred,  conquered  Sicily  and  made  Palermo 
their  capital.  What  have  the  Normans  left 
behind  them.^^  A  great  art:  Churches,  cloisters, 
mosaics,  tombs,  monuments  worthy  to  stand 
on  the  island  of  the  Greek  temples,  still  reck- 
oned among  the  wonders  of  the  world. 

Our  jBrst  days  in  Palermo  were  mild  and 
cloudy  —  good  sightseeing  weather;  on  the 
golden  days  that  followed  it  would  have  been 
hard  to  remain  indoors,  even  within  such  splen- 
did interiors  as  the  cathedral  of  Monreale  and 

the  church  of  the  Martorana.     We  went  first 

391 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND  IN   SUN 

to  the  Capella  Palatina  in  the  royal  palace,  the 
finest  royal  chapel  in  Europe.  A  certain 
stately  order,  an  aristocratic  atmosphere,  re- 
called the  chapel  royal  in  Madrid,  probably 
because  we  were  more  familiar  with  that 
than  any  other.  The  Capella  Palatina  is  far 
handsomer  and  as  different  from  the  Madrid 
chapel  as  possible.  The  walls  are  entirely 
covered  with  fine  gold  mosaics,  the  floor  with 
rich  marble  mosaic,  porphyry,  serpentine,  Afri- 
cano,  cipolino,  verde  antique,  all  our  favorite 
marbles,  inlaid  and  enlaced  in  the  most  en- 
trancing patterns.  *'  All  this  marble  must  have 
come  from  the  Greek  temples  and  the  Roman 
palaces,"  Patsy  reminded  me. 

"  Let  us  enjoy  it  where  it  is!  " 

The  beautiful  wooden  roof  covered  with 
Arabic  inscriptions  is  connected  with  the  walls 
by  a  stalactite  vaulting  like  the  ceilings  of  the 
Alhambra.  The  gold  mosaics  of  the  walls 
recalled  the  mosaics  of  Ravenna;  this  blending 
of  Arabic  and  Byzantine  decorations  with  Nor- 
man architecture  is  perfectly  harmonious;  the 
result  is  a  unique  chapel,  one  of  the  jewels  of 
Sicily,  the  treasure  house.  The  good  smell  of 
incense,  the  low  voice  of  a  priest  in  the  confes- 

392 


PALERMO 

sional  muttering  words  of  good  counsel  to  a 
kneeling  penitent,  made  the  place  warm,  alive, 
part  of  today. 

"  That's  either  a  great  swell  or  a  great  sin- 
ner," whispered  Patsy.  "  No  one  else  would 
deserve  so  much  attention  from  a  royal  chap- 
lain. I  wonder  which  it  is.  Not  that  it  matters 
much.  I  once  asked  the  verger  of  Salisbury 
cathedral  if  people  ever  came  there  to  pray. 
'  I  sometimes  catches  'em  at  it!  '  he  answered 
fiercely.  That's  the  spirit  that  makes  the  Eng- 
lish cathedrals  seem  like  so  many  museums! 
This  chapel  has  something  of  the  same  defect; 
that  swell  or  sinner  just  saves  it!  " 

In  Palermo  we  felt  the  influence  of  the  Arab 
everywhere,  in  the  streets  as  well  as  in  churches 
and  palaces.  The  gravity  of  the  people,  their 
stern  flashing  eyes,  something  in  their  bearing 
as  if  they  were  never  without  a  sense  of  what 
is  due  them,  recalls  not  only  the  Arab,  but  the 
Spaniard  who  has  been  so  much  influenced  by 
him.  The  women  of  the  lower  class  have  the 
same  magnificent  black  hair  as  the  Syracusans. 
Few  of  them  wear  hats;  there  is  some  pic- 
turesque dressing,  but  the  bright  handkerchiefs 

worn  over  the  head,  and  the  pretty  lace  aprons, 

393 


SICILY   IN   SHADOW  AND   IN   SUN 

are  the  last  trace  of  the  native  costume  that 
has  practically  disappeared  from  the  city.  We 
saw  few  beggars.  If  we  asked  our  way  we  were 
always  answered  with  politeness,  ceremony 
even. 

In  a  shop  where  we  went  to  buy  gloves  we 
found  the  same  indifference  of  the  seller  to  the 
buyer  that  we  noticed  in  Madrid  —  a  take-it- 
or-leave-it  spirit  —  not  encouraging  to  trade. 

"  These  gloves  are  rather  light  for  traveling," 
I  said.     "  Show  me  some  darker  ones." 

'*  They  may  soil,"  said  the  dealer  truculently; 
"  they  will  never  wear  out." 

"  Are  they  of  Sicilian  make.^^  " 

"  They  were  made  in  this  shop." 

The  gloves  proved  all  their  maker  claimed; 
indeed  they  still  survive. 

"  That  standoffishness  is,  I  suppose,  the 
result  of  Sicilian  omerta!''  said  Patsy.  "  I  like 
these  people,  though  I  don't  understand  them; 
you  miss  that  jolly  flash  of  sympathy  the 
Italian  gives  you.  They're  very  different  — 
Sicilians;    they're  not  quite  Italian,  I  think!  " 

We  walked  in  the  Corso  every  afternoon  at 
the    fashionable    driving    hour.      Though    the 

weather  was  mild  the  smart  people  all  drove 

394  . 


PALERMO 

in  closed  carriages,  sometimes  with  one  window 
partly  open  as  they  do  in  Madrid.  The  car- 
riages were  mostly  of  an  antiquated  shape  much 
to  our  liking;  a  sort  of  cross  between  a  landau 
and  a  barouche;  the  coachmen  all  wore  caps. 
The  finest  turnout  we  saw  had  blue  and  red 
wheels;  the  lining  and  liveries  were  brown,  and 
coachman  and  footman  wore  caps  to  match 
with  a  gold  crown  embroidered  over  the  visors. 
We  were  standing  at  the  Quattro  Canti,  the 
bull's-eye  of  Palermo,  where  the  Corso  and  the 
Via  Macqueda  cross,  when  this  carriage  passed. 

"Some  one's  bowing  to  you!"  Patsy  ex- 
claimed. 

I  caught  a  flash  of  spectacles  from  the  dark 
interior,  the  flourish  of  a  hat,  nothing  more. 

"  That,"  cried  Patsy,  "  was  the  father  of 
Teodoro.     I  told  you  they  were  great  chiefs!  " 

We  went  to  Monreale  by  an  electric  tram; 

it  cost  ten  cents  to  go  (the  distance  is  only  five 

miles)  and  eight  to  return.     On  account,  Patsy 

*'  supposed,"  of  Monreale  standing  on  a  high 

hill,  and  the  fact  that  it  takes  more  electricity 

to  pull  the  car  up  than  to  let  it  down.     The 

country  people  in  the  car  were  coldly  polite  to 

395 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND  IN   SUN 

us  but  they  argued  sharply  among  themselves. 
As  we  passed  the  old  city  wall  we  noticed  the 
washing  hung  out  to  dry.  All  the  way  to 
Monreale  there  was  the  same  frank  display  of 
linen  and  underclothes.  The  sheets  and  table 
linen,  even  outside  the  poorer  houses,  were 
extremely  handsome,  often  trimmed  with  beauti- 
ful lace.  Before  going  into  the  cathedral  we 
loitered  about  the  little  town  of  Monreale. 

"  May  the  lady  sit  here  and  rest  a  moment.'^  " 
Patsy  asked  a  tailor  sewing  in  the  doorway  of 
his  shop. 

The  man  gravely  motioned  me  to  a  chair, 
then  asked  a  question. 

"  The  Signorino  is  Americano?  Has  he  ever 
seen  Kicago.^  "  Patsy  said  he  knew  Chicago 
well. 

"  I  am  thinking  of  going  there,"  said  the 
tailor.  "  I  have  a  good  httle  business,  nothing 
to  complain  of,  all  the  best  people  in  Monreale 
wear  my  clothes,  but  there  is  no  great  future, 
no  prospect  of  laying  anything  by.  My  neigh- 
bor, Ludovico,  has  been  in  Kicago  twenty  years; 
he  has  done  very  well.  He  has  merely  come 
back  here  to  wait  till  his  poor  father  dies  — ■ 

the    old    man's    past    praying    for  —  then    he 

396 


PALERMO.     THE  ROYAL  PALACE.     Fage  392. 


PALERMO.     THE  CATHEDRAL.     Fage  39 J. 


PALERMO 

returns  to  Kicago.    He  asks  me  to  go  with  him. 
What  does  the  Signorino  advise?  " 

Over  a  barber's  shop  hung  a  sign  with  the 
words  *'  Tonsorial  Artist;"  this  evidently  was 
the  establishment  of  Ludovico. 

Below  lay  the  Golden  Shell.  As  he  sat  at 
his  door,  the  tailor  could  see  Palermo  with 
its  domes  and  turrets,  Monte  Pellegrino,  a 
vast  blue  mountain  rising  from  the  bay  on  one 
side,  Monte  Catalfano  on  the  other.  Behind 
him  rose  an  amphitheatre  of  aerial  blue  moun- 
tains ;  close  at  hand  towered  the  grand  cathedral 
of  Monreale,  that  pilgrims  cross  the  world  to 
visit. 

"  It  depends,"  Patsy  for  once  spoke  with 
hesitation,  all  his  cocksureness  gone.  *'  Chicago 
is  a  fine  city,  great  opportunities  there,  but  the 
climate's  not  just  what  you're  used  to  here; 
there  are  no  mountains,  no  sea." 

"  The  matter  of  climate  is  important,"  said 
the  tailor;  he  waxed  his  thread,  doubled  it  and 
began  to  sew  a  button  on  the  coat  he  was 
making. 

*'  As  to  mountains,  what  matters  it?     One 

cannot  eat  them !    I  have  ten  children  —  not  an 

easy  thing  to  fill  so  many  mouths;  they  eat  and 

397 


SICILY  IN   SHADOW  AND  IN  SUN 

they  eat.  I  do  not  wish  to  die  in  the  albergo  del 
poveril  Ludovico  is  rich!  He  has  two  stores  in 
Kicago.  When  he  was  a  boy  his  father  could 
only  earn  ten  soldi  a  day;  his  poor  mother 
could  not  always  give  her  children  polenta; 
they  must  often  dine  on  dandelions  and  herbs 
of  that  sort!  Now,  when  his  parents  are 
old,  Ludovico  takes  good  care  of  them.  His 
father  wrote  that  he  was  dying;  Ludovico 
came  back  to  Monreale;  that  was  two  years 
ago  —  the  old  man  is  still  alive.  The  brother 
of  Ludovico  has  a  fruit  store  in  Kicago;  he 
takes  care  of  the  business,  sends  him  the  rent 
of  the  shops,  —  two  hundred  scudi  a  month. 
I  have  seen  the  money!  " 

I  hurried  Patsy  away  at  this  point;  he  was 
becoming  too  much  interested  in  the  tailor's 
affairs;  in  another  minute  he  would  be  writing 
letters  of  introduction  to  Chicago  magnates. 

In  the  sunny  space  outside  the  barber's  door 
sat  a  silver  haired  patriarch  wrapped  in  a  shawl 
—  Ludovico's  father. 

*'  The  old  gaffers  wear  shawls  here,"  said 
Patsy,  '*  as  they  do  in  Patras.  These  folk  seem 
more  like  Greeks  than  Italians;   a  trifle  grouty, 

but  with  a  certain  fibre,  something  bold  yet 

398 


PALERMO 

reserved,  that  makes  you  want  to  know  them 
better." 

*'  Spend  the  day  gossiping  with  tailors  and 
barbers  if  you  like;  I'm  for  the  cathedral."  I 
flung  off  towards  the  church;  Patsy  followed 
slowly.  It  is  the  only  way  to  take  him  when  he's 
in  that  little-friend-of-all-the-world  mood. 

The  cathedral  of  Monreale,  and  the  adjacent 
cloister  of  the  old  Benedictine  monastery  are 
the  crowning  glory  of  that  city  of  wonders, 
Palermo. 

The  Capella  Palatina,  the  cathedral  of  Pa- 
lermo, the  Martorano  and  the  other  churches  of 
the  city  proper  hardly  prepare  one  for  the  mag- 
nificence of  this  gorgeous  church  that  stands, 
glowing  with  the  golden  stain  of  time,  on  a 
hill  between  the  Conca  d'Oro  and  its  enfolding 
mountains.  It  is  the  work  of  Saracen  architects, 
who  built  for  Norman  Kings  and  Christian 
prelates,  with  Byzantine,  Italian,  Greek,  Arab, 
and  Norman  artists  and  workmen  to  help 
them!  The  result,  instead  of  being  an  archi- 
tectural Babel,  is  the  world's  most  truly  cosmo- 
politan cathedral,  one  of  the  most  stupendous 
and  glorious  of  existing  sanctuaries.  The 
cathedral  is  in  the  shape  of  a  Latin  cross  with 

399 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND  IN  SUN 

three  apses.  The  fa9ade  is  flanked  by  two 
square  towers,  handsome  and  imposing  enough; 
the  great  beauty  of  the  exterior,  however,  is 
the  outside  of  the  choir,  at  the  back  of  the 
church.  The  lovely  pattern  of  inlaid  lava  stone 
in  two  colors  is  the  fullest,  most  splendid  ex- 
pression of  this  style  of  decoration  we  first 
saw  on  the  fa9ades  of  the  palaces  at  Taormina. 

The  interior  —  it  is  a  place  to  pass  hours, 
days,  alone.  Here  set  ajar  the  door  of  your 
soul,  let  the  wind  of  the  ages  blow  through,  as 
you  have  done  in  the  Parthenon  at  Athens,  or 
the  great  Egyptian  temple  of  Karnak.  Drink 
from  the  cup  of  beauty,  bathe  in  the  well  of 
light  and  glory,  so  shall  an  echo  of  that  thrill 
of  passionate  love  for  their  art  that  moved  the 
artists  who  wrought  this  gemmed  casket  of 
delight  vibrate  through  your  inmost  being. 

Every  inch  of  wall  space  is  covered  by  gold 
Byzantine  mosaics  with  jewelled  pictures  repre- 
senting the  whole  of  Christian  history.  You 
may  read  here  as  in  a  book  the  great  scenes 
from  the  Old  Testament,  the  story  of  the  life 
and  passion  of  the  Saviour,  the  history  of  the 
Virgin,  and  of  the  Apostles.  The  central  figure 
that   dominates   the   whole  cathedral,  that  you 

400 


MONREALE.     REAR  OF  THE  CATHEDRAL.     Page  399. 


MONREALE.     THE  CATHEDRAL.    TOMBS  OF  WILLIAM  I.  AND 
WILLIAM  II.     Page  399. 


PALERMO.     MONTE  PELLEGRINO.     Page  397. 


MONREALE.     FACADE  OF  THE  CATHEDRAL.    Page  400. 


PALERMO 

must  look  at  first  on  entering  and  last  on 
leaving,  is  the  majestic  half-length  figure  of 
Christ,  over  the  high  altar.  The  right  hand  is 
raised  in  the  act  of  blessing;  the  left  holds  an 
open  book,  with  the  words  in  Greek  and  Latin: 
"  I  am  the  Light  of  the  World." 

The  face  is  severe  in  expression  and  very 
Oriental  in  type ;  it  is  the  face  of  the  judge  rather 
than  the  Saviour  of  mankind,  with  nothing  of 
that  super-sweetness  introduced  by  the  Italian 
artists  of  the  Renaissance  who  produced  what 
we  now  call  the  Christ-like  type. 

In  my  diary  for  this  day  I  find  three  words: 
"  Monreale ;  past  belief !  " 

Later  visits  made  us  familiar  with  the  won- 
derful massively  built  church  inlaid  with  Oriental 
stones,  fretted  with  Oriental  carving.  We  each 
found  our  favorite  pictures  in  the  three  difi^erent 
series  of  mosaics  blazing  on  the  walls  —  "  An 
open  book  of  history,  theology,  and  ethics  for 
all  men  to  read." 

For  me  the  quaint  Old  Testament  scenes  are 
the  most  interesting.  Dearest  of  all,  the  story 
of  Noah,  the  first  character  in  sacred  history 
with  whom  I  became  acquainted.     The  naive 

simplicity  with  which  the  story  is  told  recalls 

401 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND   IN   SUN 

the  Noah's  ark  dramas  of  the  nursery,  with  the 
dear  familiar  figures  of  Noah,  Ham,  Shem, 
Japhet,  their  wives,  their  animals,  their  round 
green  trees  made  of  a  shaving  and  looking  like 
Italian  stone  pines.  The  very  smell  of  those 
freshly  painted  animals,  the  taste  of  a  certain 
yellow  camel  came  back  to  me  in  the  cathedral 
of  Monreale  in  one  lightning  flash  of  memory. 
Here  they  are,  the  dear  companions  of  childhood, 
the  consolers  of  long  rainy  days,  when  the 
children  in  the  nursery  knew  exactly  how  the 
people  in  the  ark  felt  on  the  fortieth  day  of  the 
deluge.  The  building  of  the  ark  is  a  most 
spirited  mosaic  picture;  so  is  the  taking  on 
board  of  the  animals.  Noah  walks  with  a  horse 
on  one  side  and  a  lion,  smaller  than  himself,  on 
the  other.  The  scene  when  the  dove  is  first 
let  loose  is  very  fascinating ;  you  feel  the  crowd- 
ing and  fatigue  of  the  too  large  family  party 
in  the  ark.  In  the  scene  where  the  dove  returns 
with  the  olive  branch,  the  sea  is  depicted  in 
delightful  hummocky  waves.  Two  swimmers, 
apparently  sinners,  are  struggling  in  the  water; 
on  the  shoulder  of  one  perches  a  crow,  evidently 
about  to  peck  out  the  sinner's  eyes.    The  scene 

of   the   landing   on   Mt.    Ararat   is   supremely 

402 


PALERMO 

spirited;  the  gesture  of  relief  with  which  Noah 
lets  the  lion  go  is  masterly. 

Patsy's  favorite  scene  is  Rebecca  giving  the 
camels  of  Abraham  water  from  the  well.  One 
of  the  most  haunting  pictures  is  the  expulsion 
from  the  Garden  of  Eden  of  our  first  parents, 
dressed  in  sheepskin.  The  cherubim  here  is 
lovely,  and  the  vigorous  angel  driving  the 
unhappy  pair  forth  with  a  flaming  sword, 
terrifying. 

The  death  of  the  Virgin  is  one  of  the  most 
primitive  and  touching  of  the  whole  series. 
The  body  of  the  Virgin  lies  on  a  couch  sur- 
rounded by  the  Apostles;  Peter  leans  over 
her  listening  to  her  heart  —  this  simple  human 
touch  makes  the  whole  scene  vivid  and  alive, 
in  spite  of  its  extreme  primitiveness.  Beside 
the  bed  stands  Christ,  with  Mary's  new  fledged 
soul  dressed  in  swaddling  bands  like  a  new  born 
infant  in  his  hands.  As  she  received  Him  into 
this  world,  so  He  receives  her  into  the  next. 
As  this  picture  is  part  of  the  story  of  the  Virgin, 
she  is  made  the  most  prominent  figure.  The 
figure  of  the  Son  is  much  smaller  than  that  of 
his  dead  mother  on  the  couch. 

In  the  cloister  of  Monreale  we  were  again 
403 


SICILY  IN   SHADOW  AND  IN   SUN 

possessed  by  haunting  memories  of  Spain.  The 
place  is  like  some  supremely  beautiful  Anda- 
lusian  patio.  It  is  surrounded  by  slender 
Arabic  paired  columns,  some  with  twisted 
shafts,  some  inlaid,  some  of  plain  alabaster  with 
amazing  fretted  capitals,  the  heads  of  men  and 
animals  carved  in  the  midst  of  the  foliage  of 
acanthus  and  palm.  The  center  is  cunningly 
laid  out  by  some  wise  gardener,  monk  or  layman. 
At  each  corner  is  a  mass  of  yellow  wall-flowers 
with  alternate  clumps  of  white  stocks,  purple 
flags,  and  lavender  hyacinths.  Among  the 
ornamental  trees  we  found  one  new  to  us  — 
the  flowering  peach.  The  blossoms  are  shaped 
like  a  red  camellia,  with  softer,  more  gracious 
petals. 

"  The  peaches?  "  Patsy  asked  the  guardiano. 

"  Small  and  not  at  all  good  to  eat,"  he  made 
a  face;  "  sour  in  fact  as  unripe  grapes.  You  see 
that  other  tree,  with  the  insignificant  blossoms -f^ 
That  bears  peaches  fit  for  the  King!  " 

"Look  at  these  violets!"  Patsy  brought 
me  the  largest  Parma  violets  I  ever  saw.  "  This 
fellow  says  they  begin  to  bloom  in  November. 
Here  they  are  still  going  it  for  all  they're  worth 

in  April.      One  of  those  chaps  in  Taormina  gave 

404 


MONREALE.     INTERIOR  OF  THE  CATHEDRAL.     Page  400. 


MONREALE.     THE  CLOISTERS.     Page  404. 


PALERMO 

as  the  reason  he  had  chosen  Sicily  as  a  home, 
that  the  violets  bloom  longer  here  than  any 
place  he  had  ever  known." 

Overhead  the  sky  was  a  flawless  sapphire 
vault,  broken  only  in  one  corner  by  a  mountain 
that  looked  like  transparent  amethyst.  The 
perfume  of  the  orange  and  the  lemon  blossoms 
was  intoxicating  as  sweet  wine;  the  comfortable 
hum  of  bees  made  a  low  undersong  to  the  music 
of  the  magic  fountain  in  the  corner  of  the 
cloister.  It  is  not  Italian,  it  is  not  Sicilian. 
What  manner  of  fountain  can  it  be.^^  Listen! 
Its  language  is  softer  than  any  now  spoken  in 
Trinacria ! 

"  Allah  il  Allah! "  The  fountain  still  mur- 
murs the  old  cry  of  the  muezzin. 

From  a  large  basin  rises  a  high  carved  shaft 

of    rich    topaz    colored    marble,    supporting    a 

curiously  wrought  ball  with  sculptured  figures, 

foliage,  and  the  alternate    heads  of  men  and 

lions.      From    their   mouths   drips    and   drips, 

but  never  spurts,  a  slow  soft  shower  of  diamond 

drops.    It  is  as  different  from  the  noisy  splurging 

fountains  of  Naples,   as  the  slow  soft-spoken 

tongue  of  the  Arabian  sage  is  different  from 

the   strident   scolding   of    those    men    on  the 

405 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND  IN  SUN 

train,  the  father  of  Teodoro  and  the  little 
avvocato. 

"  A  place  of  mystery  and  beauty  beyond 
belief." 

So  the  record  of  Monreale  ends  as  it  began  — 
"  past  belief!  " 

"  It's  good  enough  just  to  be  alive  today," 
Patsy  declared  one  ecstatic  morning;  *'  I'm 
off  for  the  market  and  the  Marina!  " 

To  reach  the  Piazza  Caraccioli,  the  market- 
place, we  threaded  a  maze  of  narrow  dark  alleys 
full  of  Rembrandtesque  lights  and  shadows.  In 
the  very  heart  of  this  labyrinth  stands  an  old 
macaroni  mill. 
•  "  We  may  enter  and  see  the  works?  " 

"  Benvenuto  1  "  The  voice  was  less  welcoming 
than  the  word.  "  They  don't  make  macaroni 
where  the  Signorino  comes  from.^^  " 

"Not    like    yours!"      Patsy    magicked    the 

peevish  proprietor  into  good  humor,    and  we 

were  free  to  enter  the  dark  cavern.     Two  half 

naked  fellows  stood  at  a  deep  trough  kneading 

flour  and  water  to  a  paste.    A  pair  of  barefoot 

men,  harnessed  to  a  heavy  wooden  pole  that 

turned  a  press,  trod  their  weary  round.     The 

406 


PALERMO 

paste  was  put  into  this  press,  and  came  out  in 
long  strips.  A  fifth  youth  cut  the  strips  into 
the  proper  lengths  and  hung  them  to  dry  over 
bamboo  canes. 

"  These  might  be  the  serfs  of  Roger  the 
Norman  making  pasta  for  his  army,"  said  Patsy; 
"  it's  positively  mediaeval!  " 

The  rude  interior  was  like  an  ancient  cave,  — 
floor,  walls,  ceiling  were  all  of  stone;  the  men 
worked  in  a  dull  heavy-hearted  way  that  hurt 
you.  There  was  none  of  the  joyous  thrill  of 
labor  lightly  carried;   it  was  a  grievous  place. 

"  The  pasta  made  in  America  is  villainous;  I 
have  eaten  it,"  said  the  capo.  "  It  is  made  of 
wheat  flour;  bah!  Semolina  is  the  only  flour 
fit  to  make  macaroni  for  Christians." 

**  Un  bicchiere  di  vino,""  Patsy  gave  the  money 
to  the  elder  of  the  men  harnessed  to  that  heavy 
pole.  The  fellow  threw  back  his  beautiful 
plume  of  hair  out  of  his  gray-blue  eyes  and 
thanked  Patsy  awkwardly. 

"  Grazie,  heviamo  a  vostro  salute'^ 

The  second-hand  boot-store  next  door  was 
a  much  gayer  place  than  the  mill. 

"  What  can  I  sell  you.^  "  said  the  jolly  pro- 
prietor,  evidently   the   buffo   of     the   quarter. 

407 


SICILY   IN   SHADOW  AND   IN   SUN 

"  Riding-boots  good  as  new?  Fishermans' 
boots?    They  will  keep  you  dry  to  the  knee!  " 

The  riding-boots  at  once  dainty  and  sports- 
man like,  looked  extraordinarily  like  Teodoro's; 
the  heavy  hobnailed  fisherman's  boots  leaned 
fraternally  against  them. 

"  I  do  not  buy  today,"  laughed  Patsy;  "  per- 
haps I  may  sell  tomorrow." 

"  I  will  give  you  better  prices  than  any 
man  in  Palermo!  " 

Where  the  market-place  broadens  to  its 
widest,  stands  sl  friggetoria. 

On  its  marble  counter  lay  a  vast  copper  basin 
of  crisp  fried  fish  that  looked  like  whitebait. 

"  What  does  the  Signorino  desire?  "  asked 
the  fishwife,  a  tall  woman  with  a  superb  coiffure 
and  piercing  black  Saracen  eyes.  "  Scoponi? 
that  is  good  to  make  zuppa  alia  marinaia^ 
calamaretti,  gamberi?  " 

"  Which  is  the  scoponi?  " 

She  picked  up  a  big,  very  handsome  blood- 
red  fish,  and  held  it  out  to  Patsy  to  show  how 
fresh  it  was. 

Leaving  him  to  deal  with  the  fishwife  I  passed 

on  to  the  fruit  stall. 

It   was   a   bad   season,  the  fruttaiuola   said. 
408 


PALERMO 

Here  were  precious  mandarins  and  oranges; 
she  held  one  up. 

*'  Behold;  you  can  see  the  blood  through  the 
skin;  they  are  all  like  this."  She  showed  an 
orange  cut  in  half,  the  pulp  ruby  as  a  pome- 
granate. "  Oh,  the  blood  oranges  of  Palermo 
are  famous,  they  bring  a  great  price  at  Naples.'* 

I  bought  a  basket  like  a  net;  my  fridtaiuola 
filled  it  with  citrons,  lemons,  oranges,  —  adding 
one  of  those  rare  winter  melons  Teodoro  had 
recommended.  From  the  market  we  made  our 
way  to  the  Marina,  a  beautiful  curving  avenue 
with  fine  palaces  and  gardens  fronting  the  sea. 

"  The  Marina  at  Messina  once  looked  like 
this,"  sighed  Patsy. 

Beyond  the  fashionable  Marina  we  came 
upon  a  little  fishing  village.  ^Ye  peeped  into  one 
poor  hut;  it  was  filled  with  fisherman's  tools, 
fishing  reels,  lobster  pots,  old  nets,  broken  oars. 
On  the  sunny  outer  wall  hung  a  tiny  crate  filled 
with  orange  parings. 

"  Every  scrap  of  lemon,  orange,  or  mandarin 

skin   is   saved,   dried  in   the  sun,   and   sold  to 

make  candied  peel  or  mandarin  liqueur,"  Patsy 

pointed    out.      "  Teodoro's    father    was    right. 

The    Sicilian    really    is    economical.      Palermo 

409 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND  IN  SUN 

could  live  on  what  spendthrift  New  York 
throws  away!  " 

The  nets  were  spread  on  the  sand  to  dry; 
the  first  catch  of  the  day  had  been  made;  two 
old  fishermen  were  busy  weighing  the  silver 
fish  from  the  boat  drawn  up  on  the  beach.  We 
watched  a  barchetta  come  in;  she  danced 
prettily  over  the  water,  curtseying  to  the  craft 
home  before  her.  On  her  prow  was  painted  a 
picture  of  the  Madonna;  the  big  brown  sail 
had  a  red  cross  for  luck. 

'' Spugni!  spugni  di  Trapani!  ''  A  gobbo 
with  a  crate  of  sponges  stopped  to  show  us  his 
wares. 

"  Sponges  of  Trapani!  "  cried  Patsy;  "  why 
that  Trapani  is  Drapana,  where  the  old  An- 
chises  died,  where  pious  iVeneas  founded  the 
games  in  his  memory.  As  we  can't  get  to 
Trapani,  let's  have  one  of  its  sponges!  " 

He  laid  in  a  supply,  not  yet  exhausted.  How 
precious  now  is  every  little  thing  from  Sicily  — 
even  the  outworn  gloves,  even  the  fine  pear- 
shaped  sponge  from  Trapani. 

"  Have    you    noticed    the    street    shrines.'^  " 

Patsy  pointed  to  a  majolica  medallion  of  Santa 

Rosalia   let   into   the   wall   of   a   house.     Two 

410 


PALERMO 

lighted  candles  and  a  mass  of  fresh  violets 
stood  before  it. 

"  I  have  not  seen  one  neglected  shrine  in  all 
Palermo;  they  are  better  kept  than  in  any 
Italian  city  I  know;    we  might  be  in  Bavaria." 

The  busy  gay  streets  of  Palermo  are  filled 
with  familiar  names  and  escutcheons.  Under 
a  fine  stone  stemma  bearing  the  arms  of  Charles 
the  Fifth  (the  Pillars  of  Hercules  and  the 
enlacing  scroll)  appear  the  magic  names  of 
Edison  and  Singer. 

During  those  first  happy  days  at  Palermo, 
we  forgot  (or  pretended  to)  the  one  absorbing 
preoccupation  of  the  last  three  months;  be- 
haved, Patsy  said,  as  if  there  had  never  been 
an  earthquake;  inevitably  we  were  brought 
back  to  it  as  children  after  a  holiday  must 
return  to  school.  At  the  Quattro  Canti  we 
met  two  sandwich  men  parading  the  streets 
with  flaming  signs  on  their  backs. 

"  Seconda  gita  a  Messina,  8  francs!" 

Luckless  Messina!  For  eight  francs  the 
Palermitans  can  make  a  trip  to  see  the  wreck 
of  the  proud  city  once  Palermo's  rival! 

*'  Poor  devils  —  to  be  made  a  spectacle  of!  " 

sighed  Patsy.     '*  Still  it  helps  to  have  anybody 

411 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND  IN  SUN 

make  money!  The  railroad  will  get  something 
out  of  these  special  trips;  any  movement  is 
better  than  none.'* 

Outside  a  large  dry-goods  shop  an  immense 
placard  called  our  attention. 

"  Bazar  Messinesi.  Bankrupt  stock  from 
Messina,  to  be  sold  out  below  cost." 

In  the  Via  Marquada,  a  fine  bustling  modern 
street,  I  found  my  friend  Palladia  the  milliner. 
She  welcomed  me  cordially  though  I  saw  she 
looked  ill  and  care-worn. 

When  the  serious  business  of  choosing  straw, 
shape,  and  flowers  for  a  new  hat  was  over,  we 
spoke  of  other  things. 

"  How  are  thy  affairs  going.  Palladia.^  " 

"  Badly,  Signora.  It  is  a  dreadful  season. 
No  one  buys  anything  new.  See  that  mass  of 
old  hats  my  customers  have  brought  me  to  make 
over!  It  is  a  miracle  the  Signora  should  come 
today;  she  can  perhaps  help  me.^  I  have  had  an 
idea.  The  ladies  of  Taormina  have  always 
served  themselves  at  Messina  (there  is  no  serious 
milliner  at  Taormina).  Now  that  the  milliners 
of  Messina  are  no  more,  —  how  if  I  went  to 
Taormina  with  hats  for  Easter?  Mostly  mourn- 
ing hats  of  course  —  but  a  little  lighter,  via, 

412 


PALERMO 

second  mourning  for  the  young  ladies  at 
least!  " 

"  What  a  good  notion!  " 

'*  If  the  Signora  would  give  me  two  lines  to 
one  who  might  assist  me?  " 

Introductions  were  written  on  the  spot. 
Palladia,  the  valorous,  had  come  from  Rome  to 
Palermo,  a  stranger,  with  only  her  old  mother 
to  help  her,  had  set  up  her  shop,  and  so  far 
had  "  made  good."  Surely  she  deserved  what 
help  an  old  customer  could  afford  her ! 

Next  day  Patsy,  insatiate  sightseer,  went 
off  to  Segesta  and  Selinus.  Left  alone  I  hunted 
up  our  friends  Dr.  Parlato  Hopkins  and  his  wife. 
Thanks  to  them  I  was  translated  from  a  lone 
traveler's  solitude  to  a  cordial  circle  of  old  and 
new  friends.  It  all  began  with  the  tea-party 
in  the  doctor's  study,  where  I  met  Mrs.  Bishop, 
the  wife  of  our  Consul  (an  old  friend) ,  and  Canon 
and  Mrs.  Skeggs  of  the  English  Church. 

"  What  a  tempting  cake!  "  one  of  the 
party  exclaimed,  as  we  drew  up  to  the 
table. 

"  I  hope  it's  good  as  it  looks;  "  said  Mrs. 

Parlato  Hopkins;  "  for  I  made  it." 

"  Did  I  help.^  "  asked  the  doctor.     "  Could 
413 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND  IN   SUN 

you  have  baked  that  cake  if  I  had  not  made 
the  baking  powder?  " 

Voted  that  it  was  "  both  of  their  cake,"  and 
that  the  Canon  should  cut  it.  He  began  by 
"  counting  noses." 

"  You're  too  extravagant,"  his  wife  ex- 
claimed as  the  Canon  cut  the  first  sHce.  His 
triumph  came  when  every  one  of  us  asked  for 
a  second  piece. 

"  A  Httle  marmalade.^  "  urged  the  doctor; 
"  home-made  also.  My  wife  is  a  good  housewife 
in  spite  of  being  a  good  doctor." 

"  I  can  recommend  that  marmalade,"  said 
the  Canon's  wife;  "  the  oranges  came  from  our 
garden." 

While  at  table  we  spoke  of  joyous  things; 

as  the  afternoon  passed,  the  talk  waxed  serious, 

laughter    ceased,    faces    grew    earnest,    voices 

grave.     This  little  group  of  friends,  exiles  all, 

living  in  Palermo,  bound  together  by  a  thousand 

kindnesses,   had  passed   through  deep   waters. 

The  faithful  almoners  of  England  and  America, 

they  too  had  worked  early  and  late  for  the 

prqfughi.     Here,  as  at  Messina,  and  Syracuse, 

the  most  precious  contribution  was  the  moral, 

not  the  material  aid.    Order,  discipline,  in  that 

414 


PALERMO 

welter  of  chaos  were  worth  more  than  money 
or  stores. 

"  These  poor  souls  will  not  go  to  work  while 
they  are  being  fed,  housed,  and  clothed  by 
charit}^"  said  the  Canon.  "  When  they  ask 
me  for  work  I  am  in  a  quandary.  The  working 
people  of  Palermo  are  all  against  them  — 
naturally;  there  isn't  enough  work  to  go 
around  I  "    Exactly  what  Ignazio  had  said. 

"  Why  not  colonize.^  "  I  proposed.  "  Eng- 
land would  do  that.  There  must  be  parts  of 
Italy  where  prosperous  colonies  might  be 
founded.  I  myself  have  seen  practically  de- 
serted villages  both  in  the  Abruzzi  mountains 
and  in  the  Sorrentine  peninsula,  w^here  whole 
populations  have  emigrated  to  the  Argentine 
Republic  or  to  the  United  States." 

"  This  is  not  England!  "  sighed  the  Canon. 

I  said  to  Mrs.  Bishop  how  much  I  wished  to 
see  her  husband. 

"  Another  day,"  she  answered.  "  He  is  still 
very  busy  with  the  Petrosino  murder." 

"  Petrosino!  "    Another  tragedy  —  as  if  Sicily 

had  not  had  enough  that  dreadful  year.    From 

one  source  and  another  I  learned  the  story  of 

the  murder. 

415 


SICILY   IN   SHADOW  AND   IN   SUN 

Lieutenant  Giuseppe  Petrosino,  a  detective 
of  the  New  York  police  force,  came  to  Palermo 
to  look  up  the  records  of  some  criminals.  A 
curious  law,  made  in  the  humane  intention  of 
helping  reform  criminals,  is  in  force  in  Italy. 
By  this  statute,  passed  in  1902,  a  discharged 
criminal,  after  a  certain  number  of  years  of 
good  behavior,  is  given  certain  papers  by  the 
authorities  by  which  it  is  made  to  appear  that 
there  has  never  been  a  criminal  charge  against 
him.  With  this  clean  bill  of  health,  he  is  given 
another  chance  to  start  life  over  again  in  a 
new  country.  At  the  same  time  a  careful 
secret  record  of  his  case  is  kept  by  the  authorities. 

In  the  United  States  we  have  a  law  that  for- 
bids the  emigration  into  our  country  of  all 
criminals,  except  so  called  "  political  "  criminals. 

The  equitable  adjustment  of  the  two  con- 
flicting statutes  has  been,  and  I  believe  is  still, 
the  subject  of  grave  consideration  by  both 
Governments. 

Meanwhile,  when  it  became  necessary  for  our 

police    to    gain    knowledge    of    certain    secret 

criminal  records,  a  request  was  made  of  the 

Italian  police  for  copies  of  them.    The  Italian 

authorities,  on  demand,  furnished  the  American 

416 


PALERMO 

authorities  with  these  copies.  So  far,  so  good. 
There  came  a  time  when  some  mysterious 
influence  was  felt  to  be  at  work,  due  to  the 
agency  of  the  Mafia,  a  secret  society  affihated 
with  the  Camorra,  whose  members  exist  in 
every  class  of  society.  It  somehow  became 
known  that  copies  of  the  secret  records  were 
being  called  for,  and  supplied  from  various 
communities  all  over  Sicily.  The  wheels  of 
justice  became  clogged;  it  was  to  help  set 
them  in  motion  that  Petrosino,  with  the  approval 
of  the  Italian  police,  came  to  Palermo. 

Two  years  before,  Petrosino  had  arrested 
Erricone,  the  Chief  of  the  Camorra  in  New 
York,  and  handed  the  arch  criminal  over  to 
the  Carabinieri,  the  royal  police  force  of  Italy. 
From  that  day  every  Cammorista  in  the  world 
knew  that  the  Camorra  had  condemned  Petro- 
sino to  death.  How  was  it  that  Petrosino  did 
not  know  it?  That  is  the  most  puzzling  phase 
of  the  whole  affair.  Probably  the  man  was 
too  much  absorbed  in  his  work  to  think  about 
himself  at  all.  He  went  about  Sicily,  where  a 
price  was  set  on  his  head,  unarmed  and  unafraid. 

He  registered  at  his  hotel  under  an  assumed 

name;    otherwise  he  took   few   precautions  to 

417 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND  IN   SUN 

conceal  his  identity.  His  mail  came  to  the 
general  post-office  addressed  to  his  real  name. 
He  was  careless  in  a  hundred  ways  about  pre- 
serving his  incognito.  Petrosino  was  a  per- 
fectly fearless  man,  though  he  was  often  warned; 
from  the  first  he  exposed  himself  recklessly. 
One  night  on  his  way  home  from  the  Gaffe 
Orete,  he  was  surprised,  set  upon  from  behind, 
and  shot  to  death  in  the  back. 

No  one  saw  the  murder;  no  one  could  even 
guess  who  the  murderers  were. 

"  It  would  have  been  the  same,"  it  was  said, 
*'  if  the  murder  had  taken  place  at  high  noon 
at  the  Quattro  Canti,  instead  of  nine  o'clock 
at  night  in  the  empty  Piazza  Marina;  no  one 
would  have  seen  the  murder,  no  one  could  have 
guessed  who  the  murderers  were,  though  the 
Italian  Government  offered  a  large  reward." 

They  gave  Petrosino  a  great  funeral,  with 
military  honors  at  the  expense  of  the  State. 
The  hearse  was  draped  by  the  American  flag 
and  covered  with  beautiful  wreaths  from  the 
city,  the  province,  the  police  and  the  Depart- 
ment of  Justice.  Our  Gonsul  walked  behind  it 
as  the  first  mourner  with  Doctor  Parlato  Hop- 
kins at  his  side.     The  procession  passed  the 

418 


PALERMO 

Consulate,  where  Canon  and  Mrs.  Skeggs  bore 
Mrs.  Bishop  company  through  the  trying  hours. 

The  streets  and  balconies  were  packed  with 
people,  a  silent  unsympathetic  crowd.  There 
was  no  disorder.  The  Mafia  made  no  sign.  Its 
work  was  done,  the  man  was  dead;  let  them 
give  him  all  the  honors  they  cared  to  pay  for. 
The  feeling  expressed  by  those  thousands  of 
silent  spectators  was  indifference.  There  were 
many  who  would  not  uncover  as  the  coflSn 
passed. 

*'  He  was  a  spy;  he  got  what  he  deserved!  " 
said  the  faces  of  the  silent  Palermitans,  — 
grave,  sinewy,  fierce-eyed  men,  dark  as  Arabs. 

"  Petrosino  must  have  been  a  very  uncom- 
mon man,  from  all  you  tell  me,"  I  said;  "  what 
did  he  look  like.'^  " 

'*  He  was  a  fine  man,"  one  of  the  company 
answered,  "  so  handsome,  so  remarkable  look- 
ing.   He  had  a  Napoleonic  head." 

*'  Yes,"  said  the  doctor,  "  he  had  indeed." 

"  But  you  never  saw  him!  " 

A  queer  look  came  into  the  doctor's  eyes;  he 

did  not  answer. 

*'  Where  could  you  have  seen  him?  " 
419 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND   IN   SUN 

"  I  never  saw  him  alive,"  said  the  doctor, 
"  you  forget,  I  embalmed  Petrosino." 

One  of  the  newspapers  had  a  caricature  by  Piff 
Paff  of  the  Prefect  of  Palermo  with  his  arm 
about  Mr.  Bishop,  pointing  to  a  long  line  of 
criminals. 

**  Here  they  are,  caro  mio,  take  your  choice 
of  them;  "  says  the  Prefect.  The  paper  was 
quickly  suppressed.  I  tried  in  vain  to  buy  a 
copy. 

None  of  my  friends  in  Palermo  by  the  way 
had  seen  or  heard  of  the  profane  poem  sup- 
posed to  have  been  printed  in  a  Messina  news- 
paper, calling  upon  the  Saviour  to  prove  He 
could  work  miracles  by  sending  a  good  earth- 
quake. Mr.  Bishop  never  heard  the  story  till 
he  went  to  Rome.  I  asked  many  people  about 
this;  no  one  had  seen  it,  no  one  could  give  the 
name  of  the  newspaper  in  which  it  was  printed. 

Agnese  and  Napoleone  both  had  assured  me 
that  the  earthquake  was  sent  as  a  punishment 
for  the  poem.  According  to  Agnese  it  was 
written  by  an  anarchist;  Napoleone  held  that 
it  was  by  a  free  mason.  I  have  come  to  the 
conclusion  that  the  whole  matter  is  an  entire 

invention. 

420 


PALERMO 

At  our  hotel  I  made  the  acquaintance  of  a 
lady  whose  name  I  never  learned.  When  I 
spoke  of  our  Consul  she  told  me  what  admirable 
service  he  had  rendered. 

"  It  was  Mr.  Bishop's  idea  to  set  the  profughi 
in  the  different  ricoveri  to  work,"  she  said.  "  At 
first  all  the  rest  of  the  Committee  were  opposed 
to  it.  He  tried  first  one,  then  another;  at  last 
he  found  a  priest,  an  admirable  man,  who 
backed  him.  I  don't  know  what  they  would 
have  done  without  him." 

How  Griscom's  slogan  "  We  help  these  people 
to  help  themselves!"  rings  out.  I  heard  its 
echo  in  Palermo,  Syracuse,  Messina,  wherever 
one  of  his  staff  has  been. 

Mr.  Bishop  spoke  with  the  greatest  cor- 
diality of  the  Palermitan  Committee.  "  They 
have  done  fine  work,"  he  said.  He  mentioned 
the  wife  of  General  Mazza  as  one  of  the  most 
earnest  of  the  leaders. 

There  were  still  7,000  profughi  in  Palermo  at 
this  time.  I  went  with  Canon  Skeggs  and  Dr. 
Parlato  to  visit  one  of  the  largest  ricoveri. 
It  was  admirably  arranged  in  a  big  garden  sur- 
rounded  on   three   sides   by   an   arcade   like   a 

wide  cloister.     This  had  been  boarded  in,  and 

421 


SICILY  IN   SHADOW  AND   IN   SUN 

divided  off  into  neat  little  dwellings  where  the 
refugees  lived  in  families.  They  all  had  good 
beds  and  were  fairly  well  clothed.  The  Canon 
had  a  word  for  every  one. 

To  this  man  he  promised  employment,  to 
that  he  gave  news  of  a  lost  daughter  separated 
from  the  rest  of  the  family  and  traced  to  a 
ricovero  in  Syracuse.  In  one  room  I  talked  with 
an  elderly  woman  and  her  unmarried  daughter, 
a  pretty  creature  who  said  she  was  thirteen 
and  looked  it;  her  mother  claimed  that  she  was 
sixteen.  She  was  very  calm  looking,  said  she 
felt  perfectly  well,  but  that  she  was  to  go  to 
the  lying-in  hospital  the  next  day.  Poor  child, 
her  lover  was  killed  at  Reggio. 

I  talked  with  an  old  woman  who  had  lost 
every  member  of  her  family. 

^' Sono  troppo  impressionata  I ''  she  cried, 
*'  tremo  sempre !  " 

She  showed  a  tiny  empty  snuff-box. 

*'  I  have  not  a  soldo  to  buy  snuff!  " 

"  Here  are  two  soldi/'  said  Dr.  Parlato, 
"  cheer  up,  mother,  we  will  find  some  of  your 
people  yet;  you  promised  you  would  not  cry, 
if  I  kept  you  in  snuff!  " 

A  brave  smart  looking  woman  sewing  on  a 

422 


PALERMO 

Singer  sewing  machine  told  us  proudly  that 
she  was  paid  for  her  work  by  the  day;  the 
others  were  so  lazy  they  were  paid  by  the 
piece. 

The  Director,  an  able  excellent  man,  told 
us  his  profughi  were  now  earning  money  by 
making  clothes  for  the  prisons,  but  that  the 
future  of  the  poor  people  under  his  charge  was 
a  grave  problem.  The  central  committee  had 
agreed  to  send  him  300,000  lire  more.  "  After 
that,  there  will  be  no  more !  What  will  become 
of  them?  " 

I  talked  with  a  shop-keeper  of  Messina,  one 
of  the  few  profughi  I  met  who  wished  to  go 
back. 

*'  So  you  wish  to  return  to  Messina.'^  " 

*'  Why  not.f^    It  is  the  mother  land;   I  cannot 

live  in  any  other.     I  am  not  so  fortunate  as 

some;    after  three  months  I  am  still  idle,  who 

would  so  gladly  work.    If  the  money  subscribed 

were  given  out  pro  rata,  so  much  a  head,  say 

one  thousand  francs  apiece,  a  family  of  five, 

like   mine,    by   putting   their   money   together 

could  have  a  little  capital  to  begin  with.     The 

Government    makes    a    mistake    to    spend    so 

much  money  in  building  houses;    it  was  not 

423 


SICILY  IN   SHADOW  AND  IN   SUN 

given  with  that  scope,  but  to  feed,  clothe, 
and  start  again  in  life  such  of  us  unfortunates 
as  escaped!  If  I  were  the  Prefetto  I  would 
call  in  some  great  firm  from  England,  America, 
Russia,  and  make  a  contract  with  them  to 
excavate  Messina.  If  it  were  let  out  to  some 
great  contractors,  responsible  people  who  could 
bring  the  machinery  necessary,  Messina  might 
be  excavated  in  six  months,  or  at  most  in  a 
year! 

How  easy  it  is  to  criticize,  how  hard  it  is 
to  do! 

My  last  morning  in  Palermo  was  spent  at 
the  Canon's  house.  The  parsonage  is  close  by 
the  charming  Gothic  church,  largely  main- 
tained by  the  Whittakers,  an  English  family 
long  resident  in  Palermo.  The  parsonage  had 
been  turned  into  a  store-house. 

"  I  have  very  little  left  now,"  said  Mrs. 
Skeggs.  "  Here  are  some  nice  woolen  skirts 
from  England.  A  friend  who  owns  a  large 
woolen  mill  gave  the  flannel,  the  mill  operatives, 
women  who  had  worked  all  day,  put  in  extra 
time,  sat  up  at  night  to  make  these  garments 
for  us!  We  have  had  some  American  contri- 
butions too  from  Rome.      Such  good  stuff  in 

424 


PALERMO 

all  the  clothes  they  sent.  And  their  admirable 
little  work-bags,  each  holding  good  scissors, 
thimble,  needles,  thread,  buttons,  hooks  and 
eyes.    I  have  only  one  left." 

I  asked  if  she  had  succeeded  in  getting  em- 
ployment for  her  refugees.  She  could  find 
plenty  of  good  situations  for  the  young  women 
as  servants  among  responsible  people,  but 
the  girls'  parents  would  not  let  them  take 
positions  for  fear  of  their  coming  to  harm. 

The  parsonage  hall  was  full  of  profughi.  One 
had  come  for  a  bed,  one  for  a  blanket,  one  for  a 
dress.  The  Canon  had  promised  to  show  me  the 
church.  As  he  led  the  way  there,  his  wife  came 
after  him  to  ask  a  last  question. 

"  May  I  give  Ginocchio  a  small  bed.^  " 

"  What  has  he  had.^  "  asked  the  Canon. 

"  Oh,  a  great  deal;  but  he  has  nine  children, 
and  they  only  have  two  beds  between  them 
all." 

"  Then  let  him  have  it!  " 

The  good  earnest  face  of  the  Canon's  wife, 

frowning  slightly  with  perplexity,  looking  out 

of  the   parsonage   door,   as   the   Canon   and   I 

hurried  off  through  the  pretty  garden  to  the 

English  church,  is  the  last  picture  of  Palermo 

425 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND  IN  SUN 

that  remains !  The  garden  was  full  of  English 
flowers,  blooming  luxuriantly  side  by  side  with 
those  famous  orange  trees  whose  blossoms 
perfumed  the  air. 

"  Blue  sky  arching  o'er  me, 
Keen  winds  piercing  through  me, 
Waves  lapping  my  feet  — 
White  clouds  sailing  swiftly, 
Bright  sun  laughing  roundly  — 
O,  Earth,  thou  art  sweet." 

(Helen  Lee.) 


426 


XIV 

MR.  ROOSEVELT  AT  MESSINA 

Tuesday,  the  sixth  of  April,  six  weeks  after 
work  began  at  the  American  camp,  the  Ger- 
man East  African  steamer  "  Admiral,"  having 
on  board  Mr.  Roosevelt,  Mr.  Griscom  and  Cap- 
tain Belknap,  entered  the  harbor  of  Messina. 
More  than  a  month  before,  on  the  fourth  of 
March,  Mr.  Roosevelt's  term  of  office  as  Presi- 
dent of  the  United  States  came  to  an  end. 
The  last  months  of  a  retiring  president  are 
always  arduous,  and  Mr.  Roosevelt  must  have 
found  them  peculiarly  so.  Besides  the  endless 
knotting  up  of  the  ordinary  executive  business, 
there  was  all  the  extra  labor  connected  with  the 
Italian  Relief.  Now  he  was  off  for  a  holiday  in 
the  African  jungle.  On  his  way,  he  looked  in 
at  Messina,  to  see  how  things  were  going  on  at 
the  Camp.  Work  had  been  pushed  at  the 
Mosella,  at  Reggio,  Sbarre,  Palmi,  Ali,  all 
along  the  line;    the  rumor  that  Mr.  Roosevelt 

was  coming  spurred  every  man  to  his  best  pace. 

427 


SICILY  IN   SHADOW  AND  IN  SUN 

"  We  must  have  something  worth  while  to 
show  him!  "  said  Belknap. 

"All  right!"  the  Camp  answered  as  one 
man.  The  very  hammers  sang  it,  the  saws 
shrieked  it,  the  true  hearts  beat  the  gay  refrain: 
"All  right!" 

As  the  *'  Admiral  "  passed  the  Faro,  Belknap, 
who  had  joined  the  party  at  Naples,  pointed  out 
the  royal  standard  flying  at  the  masthead  of  a 
man-of-war.  "  That  means  the  King  and  Queen 
are  here!  "  They  had  timed  their  visit  to 
Messina  so  as  to  meet  the  ex-President  there. 
As  the  *'  Admiral  "  slowed  down,  a  launch  from 
the  King's  ship  came  alongside,  a  dapper  young 
officer  ran  up  the  gangway  and  saluted. 

"  His  Majesty  was  about  to  go  on  shore; 
learning  of  the  steamer's  arrival,  he  has  delayed 
in  the  expectation  of  seeing  Mr.  Roosevelt  on 
board."  • 

Mr.  Roosevelt  and  Mr.  Griscom  immediately 
embarked  on  the  launch  and  went  with  the 
Italian  officer  to  the  King's  ship.  So  at  this 
old  "  Four  Corners  "  of  the  earth,  Victor 
Emmanuel  and  Theodore  Roosevelt  met.  What 
did  they  say  to  each  other? 

They  probably  shook  hands,  they  may  have 

428 


MR.   ROOSEVELT  AT  MESSINA 

talked  about  the  weather,  or  the  price  of  oranges 
(sixty  cents  a  dozen  in  New  York  at  the  present 
writing  and  a  drug  in  the  markets  of  Sicily). 
Their  meeting  is  none  the  less  significant  because 
we  know  nothing  about  it;  the  circumstances 
make  it  momentous.  Though  Mr.  Roosevelt 
was  no  longer  in  office,  in  a  certain  sense,  at  all 
events,  in  the  eyes  of  the  Italians,  he  represented 
the  American  people.  It  was  under  his  adminis- 
tration that  the  earthquake  occurred,  that  the 
relief  work  was  planned  and  started ;  he  himself 
had  given  the  impetus.  Morally,  if  not  techni- 
cally, this  was  a  meeting  of  the  representatives 
of  the  two  great  allies,  Italy  and  the  United 
States,  bound  together  by  the  strongest  of  all 
alliances,  the  need  of  each  other's  help. 

What  would  America  do  without  the  skill 
of  the  Italians.^  What  would  Italy  do  without 
the  gold  of  the  Americans.^  May  neither  ever 
have  to  stand  the  test ! 

The  interview  over,  the  King  took  the  ex- 
President  and  the  Ambassador  on  shore  in  his 
launch.  At  the  landing  they  parted.  King 
Victor  going  off  with  Captain  Bignami  to  the 
Villaggio  Regina  Elena,  the  others  starting  for 

the  Camp.     On  their  way  they  passed  two  of 

429 


SICILY  IN   SHADOW  AND  IN   SUN 

our  steamers  unloading  lumber.  Mr.  Roosevelt 
stopped  and  shook  hands  with  the  sailors  in 
charge  of  the  job.  No  holiday  for  them! 
Though  little  else  went  on  in  the  way  of  work 
that  afternoon,  the  unloading  could  not  be 
delayed.  The  nightmare  of  demurrage,  for- 
feit money  paid  the  ship  owners  for  every  day's 
delay  in  unloading  the  cargo,  haunted  Belknap, 
sleeping  or  waking. 

The  carriage  with  the  Roosevelt  party  drove 
up  the  Viale  San  Martino,  past  the  Tell  Tale 
Tower,  to  the  Camp.  Though  it  was  raining  in 
torrents,  the  road  was  in  good  condition;  the 
Italians,  like  the  Americans,  had  been  "  rushing 
work."  At  the  Camp  the  party  was  received  by 
Buchanan  and  Brofferio.  The  sailors  were 
lined  up;  the  officers,  volunteers  and  carpenters 
were  assembled.  There  was  a  great  gathering 
of  the  clan;  from  Reggio  came  Ensign  Wilcox, 
Gerome  Brush,  Robert  Hale  and  the  head  car- 
penter. From  Taormina  came  Mr.  Bowdoin 
and  Mr.  Wood.  Mr.  Chanler  was  with  the  Roose- 
velt party,  together  with  Avvocato  Giordano 
who  had  been  on  the  *'  Bayern,"  Commendatore 
Salvatore  Cortesi  of  the  Italian  Associated  Press, 
Mr.  Lloyd  Derby,  and  Mr.  Robert  Bacon,  Jr. 

430 


MR.  ROOSEVELT  AT  MESSINA 

The  visitors  walked  through  Viale  Taf t,  Viale 
Roosevelt  and  Viale  Stati  Uniti  (the  streets 
in  the  American  Village  are  all  named  for  men 
who  had  some  part  in  building  it).  Mr.  Roose- 
velt was  keen  to  see  every  detail:  the  ice  house, 
the  kitchen,  the  neat  offices,  the  comfortable 
bedrooms,  and  finally  the  "  mess-room,"  gay 
with  bunting.  Gasperone  had  set  the  tables 
with  fresh  linen,  and  decorated  them  with  wild 
hyacinths  and  acanthus.  Such  hospitality  as 
the  Camp  could  afford  was  offered.  The  cook 
had  baked  a  cake;  Mr.  Buchanan's  "  boy," 
the  giant  negro  from  Florida,  had  prepared  a 
vast  quantity  of  sandwiches.  Though  nobody 
was  hungry,  the  good  cheer  must  be  sampled. 

Mr.  Roosevelt  made  a  short  speech,  then, 
raising  his  glass,  gave  the  toast: 

"  To  every  man  of  every  nation  engaged  in 
this  great  work!  " 

They  drank  the  toast  standing. 

"  What  did  he  say  about  every  civilized 
nation  owing  a  debt  to  Italy?  "  whispered  a 
reporter  to  J. 

"  You've  got  the  gist  of  it,"  said  J.,  "  and 
it's  true  as  Gospel,  too!  " 

All  too  soon  it  was  time  to  go!     The  three 

431 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND   IN   SUN 

hours  were  up!  Down  in  the  harbor  the  "  Ad- 
miral "  was  blowing  off  steam;  this  was  a 
non-schedule  stop,  made  out  of  courtesy  to  a 
distinguished  passenger;  privileged  persons  must 
be  punctual.  The  return  to  the  landing  was  a 
triumphal  progress.  During  the  last  year  and 
a  half  Mr.  Roosevelt  has  had  many  such,  he 
has  heard  a  deal  of  cheering.  None,  it  would 
seem,  can  have  moved  him  so  profoundly  as 
the  cheers  of  the  Messinesi,  the  brave  remnant 
of  a  brave  people! 

The  letters  and  diaries  of  this  time  ring  with 
the  echoes  of  those  shouts. 

Extract  from  Mr.  Elliotfs  Diary 

"The  Camp,  Messina,  April  6. 

"  Mr.  Roosevelt  was  most  cordial  to  us  all. 

After  saying  lots  and  lots  about  the  splendid 

work  of  the  officers,  sailors,  and  carpenters,  he 

spoke  of  the  rest  of  us  volunteers  who,  he  said, 

have  given   our  time  and   energies  to  help   a 

philanthropic  work.     The  Italians  cried :  '  Long 

live  our  President,'  and  ran  along    holding  on 

to  the  carriage  and  cheering  him  —  a  moving 

sight.    The  Queen  is  worshipped  by  the  people 

in  these  parts  and  deserves  to  be.     Women  in 

432 


PALERMO.     THE  OUATTRO  CANTl.     Page  395. 


PALERMO.    THE  MARINA.     Page  409. 


AMERICAN  VILLAGE    MESSINA.    THE  CELTIC'S  CARPENTER  COOK 
AND  TWO  "SCORPIONS"    MEASURING    OFF   THE    LAND.     Page  438. 


WING  OF  ELIZABETH  GRISCOM   HOSPITAL,  ViLLAGGIO 
REGINA  ELENA.     Page  434. 


MR,   ROOSEVELT  AT   MESSINA 

their  petticoats,  half  dressed,  evidently  in  the 
act  of  doing  their  hair,  raced  after  her  carriage 
with  the  ends  of  their  hair  held  between  their 
teeth.  Somehow  this  was  curiosity,  admiration, 
and  awe  —  even  worship,  that  seemed  to  be 
expressed.  The  same  might  be  said  of  their 
attitude  towards  the  King.  I  thought  they 
really  seemed  to  worship  him,  and  perhaps  love 
him,  too  —  but  with  Roosevelt  the  feeling  ex- 
pressed was  different.  It  seemed  to  be  admira- 
tion and  brotherly  affection  —  that  was  pleasant 
to  see." 

Some  of  the  visitors  were  quite  unprepared 
for  the  magnitude  of  the  work  undertaken. 
They  had  received  the  impression  that  the 
building  party  had  very  little  to  do,  except  put 
together  the  portable  houses  (there  were  only 
forty-nine  of  them)  that,  it  was  commonly  sup- 
posed at  home,  composed  the  larger  part  of  the 
cargo  of  the  lumber  ships. 

"  As  if,"  Belknap  exclaimed,  "  you  could  pick 
a  portable  house  from  a  tree  like  a  lemon!  " 
In  a  letter  to  the  Ambassador,  Belknap  gives 
some  interesting  details  about  the  hospital. 

"  The  hospital  referred  to  was  one  that  the 

433 


SICILY  IN   SHADOW   AND   IN   SUN 

Queen  desired  to  be  built  at  Villaggio  Regina 
Elena.  Like  the  hotel,  it  began  as  a  combina- 
tion of  several  standard  cottages,  but,  as  Mr. 
Elliott  was  never  content  with  a  makeshift 
when  he  could  improve  upon  it,  a  plan  was 
ultimately  evolved  which  embodied  all  of  her 
Majesty's  ideas,  and  at  the  same  time  made  the 
most  of  the  ground  area  that  would  be  available 
to  cover.  The  Queen  had  stipulated  for  kitchen, 
laundry  and  servants  to  be  in  a  building  separate 
from  the  hospital  proper,  and  for  a  detached 
house  to  be  available  close  at  hand.  Mr.  Elliott's 
plan  was  of  a  large,  main  building,  forty  by 
sixty  feet,  containing  three  wards,  dining-room 
and  pantry,  bath,  office,  dispensary,  and  linen 
closet,  with  a  wing  thrown  out  on  the  north 
containing  operating-room,  sterilizing-room,  and 
emergency  ward,  and  another  wing  on  the  south 
for  doctors'  rooms  and  bath,  and  nurses'  rooms 
and  bath.  In  the  rear  were  to  be  kitchen,  laun- 
dry and  dining-room,  with  servants'  sleeping- 
rooms  and  storeroom  in  a  semi-detached  building 
in  one  corner,  and,  symmetrically  placed  in  the 
opposite  corner,  a  small  isolated  building  for 
a   contagious   ward.      With   the   hospital,  also, 

our  part  was  at  first  limited  to  the  contractor 

434 


MR.   ROOSEVELT  AT  MESSINA 

work,  her  Majesty  sending  an  engineer  down 
to  arrange  for  plumbing,  drainage,  lighting 
and  furnishing;  but  later  we  arranged  for,  and 
carried  through,  the  plastering  and  tiled  flooring. 

"  In  submitting  the  two  floor  plans  of  the 
hotel,  it  is  requested  that  the  Ambassador  take 
such  steps  as  may  be  necessary  for  obtaining 
her  Majesty's  sanction  for  the  use  of  her  name 
for  the  hotel. 

"  It  is  only  intended  to  build  a  two-story 
structure,  having  about  eighty -four  rooms  avail- 
able for  guests,  and  a  dining-room  and  its 
accessories  amply  large  for  about  two  hundred 
at  one  time. 

"  Since  we  have  been  at  work  about  the  hotel 
site,  several  persons  have  approached  me  about 
undertaking  to  manage  the  hotel  when  com- 
pleted. My  reply  has  been  that  I  should  refer 
all  such  questions  to  the  Ambassador,  as  I  did 
not  feel  myself  in  a  position  to  decide  any  matter 
not  connected  strictly  with  the  construction. 
The  interest  in  the  hotel  is  spreading." 

The  sixth  of  April  was  a  red-letter  day.  In 
the  morning  the  King  came  to  the  Camp;  in 
the  afternoon  Mr.  Roosevelt  and  the  Ambassa- 
dor made  their  long  expected  visit,  and  in  the 

435 


SICILY   IN   SHADOW   AND   IN   SUN 

evening  J.  was  summoned  on  board  the  Italian 
man-of-war,  to  show  his  plans  of  the  hospital  to 
the  Queen. 

Extract  from  Mr.  Elliott's  Diary 

"  The  Camp,  Messina,  April  7. 
"  Yesterday  the  King  arrived  unexpectedly 
at  the  Camp  at  9  a.  m.  Buchanan,  Brofferio 
and  I  accompanied  him  and  his  staff  through 
the  village.  They  came  into  my  small  oflBce. 
I  showed  the  King  my  designs  for  the  hospital 
and  the  cottages  we  are  to  build  at  Villaggio 
Regina  Elena,  a  model  village  the  Queen  has 
built  on  the  other  side  of  Messina.  He  liked  the 
plans  very  much.  When  I  spoke  of  the  great 
disaster  the  King  said  that  the  American  duty 
put  on  lemons  was  almost  as  great  a  disaster 
for  Sicily  as  the  earthquake.  Though,  he 
added,  '  America  is  perfectly  right.'  At  7  p.  m. 
I  was  taken  on  board  the  '  Umberto  I '  by  the 
steam  pinnace  of  the  '  Dandolo.'  I  was  received 
by  the  Queen,  a  most  fascinating  lady.  She 
thanked  me  many  times,  till  I  felt  quite  em- 
barrassed. She  was  really  very  enthusiastic 
about  the  plans  for  the  hospital  and  the  cottages. 

The  subject  of  the  allotment  of  the  houses  came 

436 


-i  .':<,•;-.■ 


'^^^  ."A 


^-«^'. 


II^'-' 


^^^fe. 


VIALE  GRISCOM,  AMERICAN  VILLAGE.  MESSINA.     Page  431. 


MR.    ROOSEVELT  AT  MESSINA 

up.  I  said  I  thought  the  plan  the  King  had 
spoken  of  as  his  idea  —  the  drawing  of  the 
cottages  by  lots  —  was  the  only  way,  in  spite 
of  the  fact  that  some  undeserving  people  might 
be  housed  while  people  of  higher  grade,  really 
the  greatest  sufferers,  might  get  nothing." 

The  day  after  Mr.  Roosevelt's  visit  the  Camp 

was  astir  early.     The  Ambassador  breakfasted 

with  the  officers  and  master  carpenters  in  the 

mess-room;   in  spite  of  the  pouring  rain,  he  was 

off  before  eight  o'clock  with  Belknap  on  a  tour  of 

inspection.     He  was  delighted  with  everything, 

had  a  good  word  for  everybody.     More  than 

twelve   hundred   men   were   now   employed   at 

Messina,  Reggio,  Sbarre  and  the  smaller  places, 

where  our  Lilliputian  "  wooden  palaces  "  were 

going  up.     The  Ambassador,  who  had  kept  in 

touch  with  every  step  of  the  work,  now  saw  it 

"  in  full  swing,"  saw  the  working  of  the  system, 

the  organization  of  the  army  of  labor.     There 

were  corps  for  clearing  the  ground,  stacking  the 

lumber,  delivering  the  building  materials,  and 

for    cleaning    up.       There    were    interpreters, 

mostly   Sicilians,    who   had   been    in   America, 

carters    and    water-boys.      The    Sicilian    and 

437 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND  IN  SUN 

Calabrian  carpenters  all  served  an  apprentice- 
ship in  the  "  shop."  Here  under  the  keen  eye 
of  Phillips,  the  carpenter  in  charge,  each  man 
was  tested,  and  then  taught  to  do  one  thing,  — 
whatever  he  proved  fittest  for.  To  build  one 
hundred  houses  a  week  was  Belknap's  ambition; 
sometimes  he  fell  short,  oftener  he  exceeded  the 
number.    This  is  the  way  the  thing  was  done: 

First  on  the  ground  came  Cook  —  ship's  car- 
penter from  the  "  Celtic,"  a  Boston  man  — 
with  his  gang.  They  cleared  the  land  (the 
peasants  had  already  cut  down  the  lemon  trees), 
smoothed  and  leveled  the  soil,  drove  the  foun- 
dation posts,  laid  the  sills. 

Second,  came  Emerson,  the  Philadelphian, 
and  his  gang  of  framers.  They  put  up  the  side 
studs,  the  roof  frame,  the  gable  ends  (made  in 
the  shop),  and  laid  the  floor  joists. 

Third,  came  Cox  of  Brooklyn  with  his  gang. 
They  placed  the  end  studs,  the  door  and  window 
frames,  their  "  cripples,"  and  the  kitchen  fram- 
ing. When  the  work  of  these  two  framing  gangs 
was  done,  they  passed  on,  leaving  a  skeleton 
house  behind  them. 

Now  came  one  of  the  four  enclosing  gangs, 

organized  by  Neil  Mackay,  a  canny  Scot,  king 

438 


MR.   ROOSEVELT  AT  MESSINA 

of  carpenters  they  called  him.  There  were  fifty 
men  in  each  enclosing  gang,  with  one  of  their 
own  number  for  leader,  who  was  made  respon- 
sible for  the  tools.  At  seven  every  morning 
each  gang  was  given  its  tool-box;  a  close  tally 
of  the  contents  was  kept,  and  at  night  the 
precious  tools  must  be  returned  intact.  The 
enclosing  gang  made  more  of  a  showing  than  the 
others.  They  took  a  skeleton  house  and  clothed 
it  with  clapboards  and  floors ;  so  that  the  roofers 
—  who  came  next  with  their  Sicilian  capo  (boss), 
Ferrara  —  found  something  that  looked  a  good 
deal  like  a  house.  After  the  roofers  had  put  on 
the  roof,  the  finishers  came.  They  hung  the 
doors,  fitted  and  glazed  the  windows,  put  on 
locks  and  fastenings,  added  the  steps.  When 
the  carpenters  were  done  with  the  house,  the 
bricklayers  and  masons  took  hold  and  built  the 
famous  kitchen,  putting  in  a  stovepipe  to  make 
all  complete,  and  in  their  turn  making  room  for 
the  painters.  These  men  gave  each  cottage  two 
coats  of  white  paint,  green  doors  and  trimmings 
and  dark  neutral-colored  base,  "  so  that  the 
mud  splashed  up  by  the  rain  would  not  show." 
When  Mr.   Griscom  had  seen  the  different 

gangs  at  work,  he  went  to  inspect  the  founda- 

439 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND  IN  SUN 

tions  of  the  hotel.  While  he  was  admiring  the 
neat  brick  arches,  the  royal  automobile  whizzed 
up  to  take  the  Ambassador,  Belknap  and  J.  to 
the  Villaggio  Regina  Elena,  to  meet  the  Queen. 
Having  seen  and  approved  the  plans  for  the 
hospital  and  houses  the  Ambassador  had  prom- 
ised to  build  in  the  American  quarter  of  her 
model  village,  she  wished  to  see  the  site  the 
buildings  would  occupy. 

They  found  the  Queen  already  there;  in 
spite  of  the  torrential  "  earthquake  rain,"  she 
was  determined  to  see  every  detail  of  her  village. 
The  Ambassador  walked  with  her  and  Captain 
Bignami;  the  others  fell  in  behind  and  followed 
with  the  lady-in-waiting,  Brofferio  and  the 
Italian  oflScers. 

"This  is  the  bakery!"  said  the  Captain. 
*'  This  is  the  baker;  he  himself  built  his  oven. 
Your  Majesty  can  see  how  light  the  bread  is!  " 

Her  Majesty  said  something  kind  to  the  baker, 
then  crossed  the  street  to  the  butcher's  shop, 
neat  as  wax,  with  all  the  latest  sanitary  con- 
trivances; next  to  the  school,  then  to  the 
church,  last  of  all  to  the  industrial  school,  — 
a  busy  hive  of  working  women  and  girls. 

"  The  Queen  was  perfectly  delighted,"  writes 
440 


1  HE   KING,   ESCUK  i  hu  BY   BUCHANAN,  Bk0^^hKlO 

AND  ELLIOTT,  ViSlTS    AMERICAN  VILLAGE, 

MESSINA,     Page  436. 


K^ 

^ 

i 

^: 

' 

"^ 

MESSINA.     PAINTING  THE  AMERICAN  COTTAGES     Page  439. 


MR.   ROOSEVELT  AT  MESSINA 

J.  "  The  place  fairly  hummed  with  the  noise  of 
machinery.  Everything  was  going  at  full  blast; 
women  were  making  stockings  and  weaving 
underclothes;  there  must  have  been  twenty 
of  them  at  least  stitching  on  Singer  sewing- 
machines  (the  Singer  people,  by  the  way,  sent  a 
good  subscription).  The  Queen  went  into 
several  of  the  houses,  and  found  them  all  in 
apple-pie  order;  Captain  Bignami  insists  on 
perfect  cleanliness." 

As  they  left  the  building  a  little  girl,  escaping 
from  the  guards  who  kept  the  people  back  from 
pressing  too  closely  on  the  royal  party,  threw 
herself  at  the  Queen's  feet  and  kissed  the  hem 
of  her  dress.  Many  petitions  were  made,  some 
of  them  for  perfectly  unreasonable  things. 

"  It  is  so  hard,"  said  the  Queen;  "  these  poor 
people  think  I  can  give  them  whatever  they  ask 
me  for." 

"  That  is  not  wonderful,  considering  all  that 
your  Majesty  has  given  them." 

"  The   hospital    will    stand    here;  "    Captain 

Bignami  pointed  out  the  site  on  the  hillside 

above  the  village,  commanding  a  magnificent 

view. 

"  You  have  heard,"  it  was  whispered,  "  her 
441 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND  IN   SUN 

Majesty  names  it  the  Elizabeth  Griscom  Hos- 
pital? " 

"  What  a  good  idea!  " 

The  Queen  now  disappeared,  and  the  Ameri- 
cans returned  to  Messina.  The  Ambassador 
soon  after  took  the  ferry-boat  for  Reggio.  Here 
he  looked  over  the  work  with  Ensign  Wilcox,  and 
later  went  with  Mr.  Chanler  to  Sbarre,  to  see 
the  buildings  put  up  there  under  Chanler's 
direction.  Timothy,  the  carpenter,  writing  to 
his  wife,  says: 

"  The    Ambassador,    Captain    Belknap    and 

several  other  gentlemen  came.     My  men  was 

working,  though  the  mud  was  ears  deep  and 

one  could  not  keep  looking  well.    The  Captain 

introduced    me   to   Mr.    Griscom,    who   highly 

commended  me  on  the  mill  and  its  workings. 

They  all  took  dinner  with  us  that  evening,  and 

we  was  twelve  at  table.    When  we  got  good  and 

started  and  was  about  half-way  through,  Mr. 

Chanler  came  in  late  and  made  thirteen.     He 

did  not  mind.    Some  of  the  boys  kicked  but  we 

laughed  them  out  of  it.     Many  funny  stories 

was   told.     Finally  broke  up,  singing  America 

on   the  party's   leaving;    it  was   raining  very 

hard." 

442 


MR.   ROOSEVELT  AT  MESSINA 

"  I  had  hoped,"  writes  Belknap,  "  that  Mr. 
Roosevelt  might  see  what  was  to  me  the  best 
feature  of  the  whole  enterprise,  the  hundreds 
of  men  busily  employed,  earning  good  wages, 
making  the  air  ring  with  the  noise  of  their 
saws  and  hammers;  but  it  would  have  been 
futile  to  try  and  keep  the  men  at  their  places 
while  he  was  passing.  The  men  were  in  sight, 
to  be  sure,  by  the  hundreds,  fresh  from  their 
work,  with  tools  in  hand,  nail  aprons  on.  I 
doubt  if  much  work  was  done  the  whole  after- 
noon, notwithstanding  that  Mr,  Roosevelt  was 
in  the  Camp  only  an  hour;  yet  the  time  lost  was 
more  than  made  up  afterwards  by  the  en- 
thusiasm and  stimulus  that  the  visit  gave." 

So  ended  the  meeting  of  the  Triumvirs,  Roose- 
velt, Griscom  and  Belknap.  To  those  who 
helped  them  in  their  work  it  was  of  such  pro- 
found interest,  that  the  sixth  of  April  remains 
the  culminating  point  of  the  whole  Messina 
business. 

What  did  it  mean  to  them  ? 

All  three  are  men  of  action,  who  delight  too 

much  in  doing  to  waste  much  time  in  talking 

about  what  they  have  done.     They  felt  it  none 

the  less  for  all  that.    A  single  sentence  from  a 

443 


SICILY  IN   SHADOW  AND   IN   SUN 

letter  of  Mr.  Griscom's  tells  us  more  than  a 
volume  of  oflScial  reports. 

"  I  may  say  personally,  I  have  had  the  most 
valuable  and  interesting  experience  of  my  life- 
time." 

We  said  at  the  time  that  the  rain  was  the 
only  drawback  to  the  complete  success  of  Mr. 
Roosevelt's  visit.  Looking  back  at  that  mem- 
orable sixth  of  April,  we  are  not  so  sure  of  this. 
Was  it  not  really  best  things  happened  as  they 
did.^  All  the  distinguished  visitors  received  a 
more  exact  idea  of  the  actual  conditions  under 
which  the  work  they  planned  was  carried  out, 
than  if  the  day  had  been  fair.  For  more  than 
three  months  that  cruel  earthquake  rain  con- 
tinued, with  only  a  few  rare  days  of  fair  weather. 
The  peculiar  rain  may  in  some  measure  have 
been  due  to  the  fine  dust  discharged  into  the 
atmosphere,  since  every  drop  of  rain  is  formed 
around  such  a  particle.  This  may,  the  scientists 
say,  account  for  the  rain  at  Messina.  Peculiar 
rains  have  been  observed  after  other  earth- 
quakes. The  trouble  is  that  earthquakes  are 
so  rare  that  the  scientists  cannot  tell  whether 
the  rain  was  a  mere  coincidence  or  due  in  some 

measure  to  the  disturbance.    "  The  change  of  the 

444 


MR.   ROOSEVELT  AT  MESSINA 

electrical  potential  due  to  the  earthquake  might 
serve  to  start  a  rain,  and  altogether  one  is 
inclined  to  suspect  that  the  rain  was  at  least 
started  by  the  earthquake,"  writes  one  expert. 
The  truth  is  the  scientists  themselves  are  all 
"  up  a  tree  "  about  that  mysterious  rain. 
Rosina  Calabresi,  Timothy,  and  all  the  simple 
people  who  endured  it,  have  no  such  doubts. 
To  them,  to  us,  perhaps  to  Mr.  Roosevelt,  it 
remains  a  rain  apart,  unlike  all  others! 


445 


XV 

EASTER 

**  Oggi  il  Signor  e  morto.'* 

"  Dead?  Impossible,  we  heard  he  was  bet- 
ter! " 

Gasperone  smiled  patiently,  pointed  to  heaven 
and  repeated  the  greeting  that,  in  Sicily,  people 
give  each  other  on  Good  Friday:  "  Today  our 
Lord  is  dead." 

I  had  come  to  spend  Easter  at  Camp;  Gas- 
perone met  me  at  the  station.  His  words 
brought  a  faint  uneasiness  that  returned  when- 
ever the  greeting  was  repeated:  I  heard  it 
many  times  that  day  —  from  Caterina,  Zenobia, 
Zia  Maddalena,  a  dozen  others  —  and  always 
it  brought  that  faint  shock,  as  if  there  was 
something  especially  significant  to  us  in  the 
words. 

On  our  way  to  Camp  we  met  Timothy,  the 

carpenter.     I  stopped  to  ask  how  things  were 

going  on. 

"  Badly!  "  said  Timothy.     ''  Ain't  it  a  pity? 

446 


EASTER 

Such  a  fine  day  at  last  after  all  this  rain!    It's 
a  holiday;   the  men  don't  want  to  work.    We're* 
short  of  hands  all  round.    I  have  only  fifteen  out 
of  my  gang  of  twenty-seven,  and  they  are  work- 
ing under  protest." 

"  This  is  a  festa  .^  "  I  asked  Gasperone. 

"  No,  not  a  feast;  rather  a  great  fast,"  said 
Gasperone. 

"  First  thing  I  knew  of  it's  being  Good  Fri- 
day," said  Timothy,  "  was  the  hot  cross  buns  for 
breakfast  —  the  best  bread  I  have  eaten  since  I 
left  home.  You  ought  to  look  into  the  church 
they  rigged  up;  it's  like  a  tempor'y  railroad 
station.  It  certainly  is  cheerful  to  see  them 
poor  devils  hanging  round  the  statuary  — 
touching,  too." 

It  was  well  for  all  concerned  that  the  men 
refused  to  w^ork,  that  the  great  "  drive  "  w^as 
relaxed  for  a  breathing  space.  They  had  all 
been  working  over  time,  "  on  a  spurt  "  to  get 
things  as  far  advanced  as  possible  for  the 
visitors. 

Saturday  morning  I  went  with  Signer  Donati 
and  J.  to  call  on  the  Archbishop  at  his  palace, 
one  of  the  few  habitable  buildings  in  Messina; 

it   had    been    only    slightly    damaged    by    the 

447 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND   IN  SUN 

earthquake.  The  handsome  courtyard  was 
filled  with  wooden  shanties,  the  lower  halls, 
the  very  stairs  were  crowded  with  families 
camping  out.  The  palace  had  become  an  asylum 
for  the  homeless,  a  storehouse  for  the  treasures 
saved  from  cathedral,  church  and  monastery. 
While  waiting  for  the  Archbishop,  we  were 
entertained  by  a  Jesuit  priest  who  spoke  good 
English. 

"  You  shall  see  all  our  precious  things,"  he 
said,  "  if  you  wull  send  some  more  blankets  for 
our  poor  people  and  some  vulgar  shoes." 

The  Jesuit,  a  lean  virile  man  in  a  shabby 
cassock,  took  a  big  bunch  of  keys  from  his  belt 
and  led  the  way  to  a  distant  wing  of  the  palace. 
He  unlocked  a  heavy  iron-barred  door,  motioned 
us  to  pass  through,  and  locked  the  door  behind 
us.  We  were  in  a  vast  room,  smelling  faintly 
of  stale  incense  and  wax  candles,  filled  with  the 
spoil  of  churches.  There  were  statues  of  saints, 
plaster  angels,  paintings  of  the  Madonna, 
crucifixes,  fragments  of  rich  altar  cloths,  em- 
broidered vestments,  priceless  old  laces,  gold 
and  silver  vessels  for  the  mass,  painted  missals, 
candlesticks,  lamps,  all  carefully  sorted  and  laid 
in  piles.     We  passed  through  room  after  room, 

448 


A  MAKESHIFT  CHURCH  AND  BELFRY.     Page  447. 


EASTER 

filled  with  this  strange  wreckage  of  the  churches, 
to  an  inner  apartment,  double  locked,  a  high 
vaulted  chamber  where  the  most  precious 
treasures  were  kept,  the  gold  and  the  silver 
manias  of  the  Madonna  della  Lettera.  The 
gold  mania  is  an  exquisite  piece  of  goldsmith's 
work,  beautifully  chased  and  set  with  gorgeous 
jewels,  most  of  them  royal  gifts.  We  admired 
an  emerald  ornament  offered  by  Queen  Isabel 
of  Spain  (the  modern  Isabel),  who  greatly 
affected  emeralds,  and  a  diamond  brooch  given 
by  Queen  Margherita. 

"  Nothing  is  missing,''  said  the  Jesuit;  "  if 
the  soldiers  overlooked  anything,  the  people 
found  it  and  brought  it  to  us  —  all  the  jewels 
of  the  Madonna  della  Lettera,  even  the  precious 
letter  itself,  are  here." 

*'  The  epistle,"  Signor  Donati  explained, 
"  written  by  the  Virgin  to  the  people  of  Messina, 
and  brought  here  by  Saint  Paul,  who,  as  you 
know,  came  to  Sicily  in  the  year  42." 

The  Archbishop  received  us  in  his  study,  a 
big  bare  room  filled  with  supplicants,  all  talking 
at  once.  In  order  that  we  might  hear  each 
other  speak,  he  led  the  way  to  a  smaller  apart- 
ment  next   door.      The   Archbishop   is   a   tall 

449 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND  IN  SUN 

handsome  man,  with  a  direct,  forcible  manner. 
We  heard  from  Sicilian  friends  that  he  had 
spent  the  whole  of  his  large  private  fortune  for 
the  benefit  of  his  people  and  his  church.  The 
Archbishop  wasted  no  time;  after  thanking  us 
for  what  had  already  been  done,  lie  spoke  of 
what  was  nearest  his  heart. 

"  Build  us  a  church!  That  is  our  first  need; 
then  build  us  a  barrack,  large  enough  to  house 
eighteen  priests.  Out  of  my  one  hundred  and 
five,  eighty  were  killed;  but  first  of  all  the 
church,  that  is  our  greatest  need!  " 

"  You  shall  have  your  church,  be  not  afraid," 
said  Signor  Donati.  "  Behold,  the  Signor  archi- 
tetto  has  brought  his  plans  to  show  you!  " 

J.  unrolled  the  plans  with  his  neat  drawings, 
and  spread  them  out  on  the  writing  table,  using 
the  ancient  sand  boxes  of  the  silver  inkstand 
to  hold  down  the  corners: 

"  Notice  that  the  church  is  to  be  in  the  shape 
of  the  Red  Cross." 

*'  Admirable!  "   said   the  Archbishop.     "  Be 

seated."     With  a  gracious  gesture  of  authority, 

he  motioned  J.  to  a  chair,  seated  himself  at  the 

table,  and  bent  over  the  plans. 

Point  by  point,  they  went  over  the  ground- 

450 


EASTER 

plan,  elevation,  and  all  the  rest  of  it.  The  Arch- 
bishop was  delighted;  every  ingenious  detail 
pleased  him.  His  earnest,  worn  face  relaxed; 
he  really  smiled,  waxed  enthusiastic.  Nothing, 
he  declared,  could  have  been  better  devised. 
This  was  the  attitude  of  the  churchmen  through- 
out. Whatever  was  done  for  them  was  well 
done.  The  plans  for  the  church  were  much 
more  elaborate  than  I  had  supposed  from  J.'s 
letters.  Instead  of  a  mere  roofed-in  shed,  it  was 
to  be  a  very  solidly  built  wooden  church  on 
concrete  foundations;  it  was  even  to  have  a 
belfry. 

"  By  grouping  together  the  ordinary  cottage 
windows,  we  have  here  a  rose  window!  " 

"What  a  good  idea!" 

*'  By  a  miracle,  enough  red  glass  has  been 
found  in  Messina  to  make  a  red  cross  for  the 
centre  of  the  rose  window  —  nothing  is  lacking, 
you  see,  not  even  a  stained  glass  window." 

"Capital!" 

"  If  we  succeed  in  getting  your  church  built 
for  you,  there  are  two  requests  we  make  in 
return." 

"  Requests .'^    Let  us  hear  them." 

"  First,    that   the     church    be   called    Santa 
451 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND  IN  SUN 

Croce;  this  because,  if  built,  it  will  be  by  a  gift 
of  the  American  Red  Cross." 

"A  good  name,"  the  Archbishop  nodded; 
"  it  shall  certainly  be  called  Santa  Croce.  The 
second  request.^  " 

"  The  Signor  Comandante  asks  for  the  use  of 
a  bell  one  of  our  carpenters  saw  lying  on  the 
ground  outside  a  ruined  church." 

"  For  what  will  the  bell  be  used.?^  " 

"  To  call  the  men  to  work." 

"  That  is  a  good  use.  Labor  are  est  or  are. 
Send  your  men  for  the  bell  when  you  like." 

The  Archbishop  rose  as  he  said  it,  and  the 
interview  was  over;  a  busy  man,  he  had  given 
us  all  the  time  he  could  spare.  The  Jesuit  came 
with  us  to  the  door  of  the  palace. 

"  The  Signora  will  not  forget.'*  Vulgar  shoes. 
Some  were  sent  with  high  heels,  pointed  toes  — 
no  use  for  us.  Vulgar  shoes  for  men  and  women. 
It  is  understood.^  " 

Grass  was  not  allowed  to  grow  under  the  feet 

at  Belknapoli   (so  Mrs.  Griscom  christened  the 

Camp);    that  very  afternoon  they  sent  for  the 

bell.     It  came  in  a  cart,  drawn  by  a  pair  of 

swift  red  oxen,  surrounded  by  an  enthusiastic 

452 


EASTER 

crowd  of  Messinesi.  With  a  deal  of  laughter 
and  shouting,  the  church  bell  was  hung  between 
two  trees  outside  the  "  pay-window."  From 
that  day  on,  it  called  the  men  to  labor  and  to 
rest,  morning,  noon  and  night.* 

On  Saturday  afternoon  Gasperone  knocked 
at  my  door.  "  Behold,"  he  said,  '*  the  package 
from  Rome  the  Signora  expected.  It  seems  in 
good  condition."  He  laid  down  a  big  bundle 
that  had  come  by  post. 

We  had  telegraphed  Agnese  from  Palermo, 
to  send  some  clothing  to  the  Camp  to  distribute 
for  Easter.  Agnese  had  been  faithful,  the  post- 
office  prompt,  the  clothes  had  come  in  time.  It 
cost  twenty  cents  to  send  the  telegram,  a  very 
small  sum  to  transport  the  package.  In  Italy 
the  people  own  their  telegraph  and  express; 
they  pay  the  minimum  price  for  both  services. 
When  shall  we  do  as  much  ? 

The  new^s  that  there  were  clothes  to  be  had 
for  the  asking  spread  rapidly;  a  line  formed 
outside  the  guest  house.  The  dresses,  alas,  did 
not  begin  to  "go  round."  With  the  doctor's 
help,  we  gave  them  to  the  most  needy,  thwarting 

*  When  the  work  was  all  done,  the  Americans  hung  the  bell  in  the 
belfry  of  the  church  of  Santa  Croce.  Our  church  is  now  the  pro- 
cathedral  of  Messina ! 

453 


SICILY   IN   SHADOW   AND   IN   SUN 

Gasperone,  who  wanted  them  all  for  his  family. 
At  the  end  of  the  distribution  Caterina  arrived, 
out  of  breath,  leading  the  raggedest  barefoot 
child  in  all  ragged  Messina.  Nothing  remained 
for  her  but  a  bright  blue  dress  and  a  buff  silk 
handkerchief. 

"It  is  finished,  away,  away!"  Gasperone 
drove  the  grateful,  gossiping  crowd  before  him. 
"  The  Comandante  does  not  allow  loafing 
about  the  Camp;    be  off!  " 

On  Easter  morning  the  Camp  slept  late;  it 
was  to  be  a  real  holiday,  for  the  men  at  least. 
The  matins  of  the  birds  began  before  dawn. 
At  sunrise  the  world  was  one  great  opal;  as  the 
sun  grew  stronger,  the  opalescent  mists  dis- 
appeared ;  by  the  time  the  goats  came  rambling 
to  the  kitchen  door,  the  earth  was  an  emerald 
between  a  sapphire  sea  and  sky.  Caterina  was 
the  first  to  give  me  the  lovely  Easter  greet- 
ing: 

*'  Oggi  il  Signor  non  e  morto!  "  (Today  our 
Lord  is  not  dead.) 

A  little  girl  in  a  pretty  blue  dress,  a  buff 
handkerchief  tied  over  her  rippling  bronze  hair, 
shyly  held   out  a   lilac  lily    as  she    lisped:  — 

"Blessed  be  thou!" 

454 


PAY-WINDOW  AND  THE  ARCHBISHOP'S  BELL.     Page  453. 


EASTER 

"  Don't  you  know  her?  "  cried  Caterina. 
*'  It's  Teresa;   the  dress  suits  her,  yes?  " 

Teresa,  the  ragged  little  witch  of  last  night, 
was  transformed  into  a  neat  demure  child!  All 
that  bright  beautiful  Easter  day  I  kept  meeting 
one  and  another  of  the  girls  and  women,  who  the 
night  before  had  been  so  forlorn,  so  bedraggled. 
Today  they  were  neat  and  freshly  dressed  for 
Pasqua.  How  did  they  do  it?  In  the  streets, 
in  the  church,  wherever  you  met  the  women, 
you  felt  that  effort  at  festive  dress  for  the  great 
feast  of  the  year,  the  world-old  festival,  that 
from  the  beginning  of  time  we  have  celebrated 
by  one  name  or  another. 

The  services  in  Messina  this  Easter  Sunday 

were  far  more  impressive  than  any  I  ever  saw 

at  Rome  or  even  at  Seville.     The  pontifical 

mass  was  said  by  the  Archbishop  in  a  small 

wooden  theatre  that  had  escaped  destruction. 

The  congregation  was  large;    there  were  now 

forty  thousand  persons  in  Messina.     Many  of 

the  congregation  were  maimed  or  crippled.     A 

man  with  a  bandaged  right  arm  at  the  elevation 

of  the  Host  struck  his  breast  three  times  and 

murmured  low,   "  Mea  culpa,  mea  culpa,  mea 

maxima  culpa.'*    Poor  soul!    whatever  his  sins 

455 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND  IN  SUN 

have  been,  his  sufferings  must  have  matched 
them!  In  the  afternoon  the  images  of  the 
Saviour  and  of  Mary  the  Mother  were  carried 
in  procession  through  Messina.  Cries  of  "  Viva 
Maria!"  followed  the  figures.  A  young  girl  took 
her  earrings  from  her  ears,  and  one  of  the 
beaters  climbed  up  and  hung  the  offering  in 
Mary's  girdle. 

'*  Ah,  Santissima  Maria!"  cried  a  poor  old 
woman  with  tear-worn  eyes,  "  you  have  nothing, 
not  even  a  drum,  to  do  you  honor!  Ah!  the 
band  that  went  before  you  a  year  ago!  The 
musicians  are  all  dead.  I  lost  my  two 
daughters.  They  are  under  the  ruins;  may  I 
meet  them  in  Paradise !  See,  this  is  my  husband ; 
he  is  blind ;  we  two  old  ones  were  saved ;  all  the 
children  and  the  grandchildren  were  taken." 

As  the  figure  of  the  Christ  passed,  the  old 
blind  man  fell  on -his  knees,  stretching  out  his 
arms  and  crying  in  a  terrible  voice:  "  Santis- 
simo  padre,  help  us,  help  us!  " 

"  This  is  the  first  real  Sunday  we  have  had 
at  Camp,"  said  the  doctor  that  evening. 

No  one  was  ever  obliged,  or  even  asked,  to 

work  on  Sunday,  I  think;   our  men  had  caught 

the  fever  of  work,  it  was  the  labor  microbe  that 

456 


EASTER 

pushed  them  on.  The  desolate  people,  the  sad 
women  with  their  wonderful  children,  who  came 
from  their  little  wretched  huts  and  looked  with 
longing  eyes  at  the  baracche  Americane^  stirred 
and  stimulated  our  men  to  toil  through  the 
bitter  days  of  rain,  and  the  dreadful  days  of 
wind,  when  the  pestilential  dust  of  the  city, 
that  vast  charnel  house,  was  driven  into  the 
eyes  and  throat. 

Easter  Monday  was  a  jesta,  and  the  men  did 
not  work.  Some  of  the  carpenters  went  for  a 
long  bicycle  ride.  Signor  Donati  appeared  at 
breakfast  in  a  fine  sportsmanlike  costume  with 
gaiters,  cartridge  belt  and  game  bag.  We  heard 
him  blazing  away  all  day  with  his  gun.  He 
shot  one  swallow.  The  tiny  scrap  of  a  bird 
was  brought  in  on  a  plate  at  dinner,  offered  to 
me,  then  to  the  Captain,  and  finally  sent  to 
Brofferio,  who  was  ill  in  his  room. 

At  the  Villaggio  Regina  Elena  there  was  a 
pretty  ceremony  that  Easter  Monday.  On* 
Sunday  a  poor  blind  woman,  Giuseppa  Lo 
Verde,  gave  birth  to  a  little  girl,  the  first  child 
born  in  the  Queen's  village.  The  child  was  bap- 
tized the  next  day  and  given  the  name  of  Elena. 

The  ceremony  took  place  at  the  tiny  church  the 

457 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND  IN  SUN 

dear  sailors  built,  Captain  Bignami  holding  the 
little  one  in  his  arms  at  the  baptismal  font. 

One  of  the  most  popular  places  in  the  Camp 
was  Dr.  Donelson's  office,  a  tiny  surgery,  not 
more  than  eight  feet  square.  The  poor  people 
had  soon  found  him  out  —  the  unofficial  work 
of  this  good  physician  deserves  a  whole  chapter 
to  itself.  The  doctor's  patients  were  not  un- 
grateful; that  Easter  he  had  as  thank  offering 
a  basket  of  golden  citrons;  a  blue  heron,  war- 
ranted "  good  eating,"  a  handful  of  coppers 
from  Zia  Maddalena,  whose  grandchild  he  had 
cured.  Though  little  was  said  of  illness,  there 
was  plenty  of  it  about.  I  was  warned  not  to  go 
near  certain  hovels,  where  scarlet  fever  was 
raging.  The  doctor  was  a  daily  visitor  here; 
he  nursed  and  tended  the  little  children  with 
a  tenderness  they  will  not  forget.  His  office 
was  rarely  empty;  during  the  half  hour  before 
dinner,  when  work  for  the  day  was  over,  the 
officers  gathered  here  to  talk  things  over. 
Sometimes  the  tinkle  of  Spofford's  guitar  or 
the  notes  of  the  doctor's  flute  came  from  the 
little  office,  with  its  neat  shelves  of  bottles  and 
faint  odor  of  carbolic  acid. 

On  Monday  evening,  wishing  to  consult  the 

458 


EASTER 

doctor  about  a  new  installment  of  clothing,  I 
went  to  his  door.  There  were  voices  in  the 
office;  the  doctor  had  a  patient,  so  I  sat  down 
outside  to  wait.  It  was  a  perfect  evening;  the 
sky  was  still  flushed  with  sunset,  the  first  star 
stood  over  the  tall  spire  of  the  little  Gothic 
church  at  the  camjpo  santo.  The  dusk  fell  softly; 
on  the  heights  above  Messina,  the  outlines  of  the 
old  Saracen  fort  were  blurred  in  the  violet  after- 
glow. The  tramp  of  the  sentinel  marked  time. 
Another  sound  broke  the  twilight  stillness,  the 
sound  of  the  royal  march  played  by  a  band. 
Where  could  it  come  from.^  In  all  Messina 
there  had  not  been  found  so  much  as  a  drum 
for  the  procession.  The  music  came  nearer 
and  nearer,  a  new  sound  mingled  with  it,  the 
sound  of  voices  singing  and  cheering.  Lan- 
terns were  brought  out,  the  mess-room  door 
thrown  open.  By  the  light  that  streamed  out 
I  saw  a  cab,  decked  with  green  branches,  drawn 
by  a  horse  gay  with  white  ostrich  plumes.  Two 
of  our  carpenters  sat  in  the  cab,  which  was 
followed  by  a  pair  of  ox-carts,  filled  with  chairs 
occupied  by  the  carpenters'  guests.  The  three 
vehicles  were  surrounded  by  a  crowd  of  people, 
singing  and  cheering. 

459 


SICILY   IN   SHADOW   AND  IN   SUN 

**  Long  live  the  American  carpenters!  "  ' 

Some  of  our  men  had  spent  the  day  at  a 
neighboring  village,  that  had  escaped  the  earth- 
quake; they  had  been  escorted  home  by  the 
whole  population.  The  band  departed  playing 
the  merry  march;  the  sound  grew  fainter  and 
fainter  in  the  distance.  A  bright  fire  lighted  up 
the  dark  interior  of  the  little  shanty,  opposite 
the  Camp,  built  by  Zia  Maddalena  and  Cousin 
Sofia;  the  tinkle  of  Spofford's  guitar  repeated 
the  gay  notes  of  the  march  —  how  good  it  was 
to  hear  the  joyous  sounds! 

"  Will  you  please  tell  this  woman,"  the  doctor 
spoke  sternly  to  his  interpreter,  '*  that  this 
child  has  small-pox.  If  she  doesn't  report  it 
immediately  to  the  health  authorities  it  will  go 
hard  with  her.  She  may  be  fined,  or  imprisoned 
for  neglecting  to  do  so  and  it  may  prove  fatal 
to  her  child.  It's  a  menace  to  the  com- 
munity. Please  make  her  understand  this 
fully,  as  I  shall  immediately  report  the  case 
myself." 

The  poor  mother,  dazed  and  sorrow-stricken, 

buried  her  face  in  the  little  bundle  in  her  arms 

and  went  weeping  to  the  hospital,  where  the 

child  —  all    that   the    earthquake    had    left    to 

460 


EASTER 

her  —  would  be  taken  away  from  her  —  per- 
haps never  to  be  returned. 

The  next  morning  at  breakfast  an  unmis- 
takable hint  was  dropped  that  my  visit  had  best 
come  to  an  end.  Nothing  was  said  about 
smallpox  —  it  may,  indeed,  have  had  nothing 
to  do  with  the  hint.  I  have  always  believed, 
however,  that  had  it  not  been  for  the  sick  baby, 
I  might  have  enjoyed  a  few  more  days  at  the 
Mosella. 

That  day  news  came  to  the  Camp  of  Marion 
Crawford's  death. 

It  was  known  that  he  was  ill,  but  hopes  had 
been  held  out  of  his  recovery.  He  had  written 
lately  about  the  profughi  he  had  sheltered  in  his 
villa  at  Sorrento.  In  these  last  months,  though 
suffering  greatly,  he  worked  early  and  late  for 
these  poor  people.  He  wrote  often  concerning 
them.  There  was  no  sign  of  weakness,  either 
in  his  firm  beautiful  handwriting  or  in  his  brave 
cheerful  words. 

It  was  strange  to  read  the  story  of  his  death, 

sympathetically  as  it  was  told,  in  an  Italian 

paper.     He  died,  at  sunset  on  Good  Friday, 

sitting  in  his  chair  looking  out  over  the  Bay  of 

Naples  towards  Vesuvius,  just  as  the  procession 

461 


SICILY   IN   SHADOW   AND   IN   SUN 

of  Mary  the  Mother,  returning  from  her  search 
for  her  lost  Son,  passed  his  door.  The  news 
that  his  strong  heart  had  ceased  to  beat  cast 
a  shadow  over  the  Camp.  Though  not  one  of 
the  company  except  ourselves  had  any  personal 
friendship  with  him,  each  one  felt  that  he  had 
lost  a  friend. 

Our  great  story-teller  had  told  his  last  story. 
Not  many  men  have  served  their  generation 
as  well  as  he.  A  wonderful  man,  more  romantic 
than  his  romances,  more  poetic  than  his  poetry, 
more  dramatic  than  his  dramas,  his  death  was 
in  keeping  with  all  the  rest  —  he  was  an  idealist 
to  the  last! 


462 


XVI 

MESSINA 

Ave  atque  Vale! 

As  the  steamer  bore  me  away  from  Messina 
and  towards  Naples,  I  looked  my  last  on  the  old 
sickle-shaped  harbor  of  Zancle,  on  Cape  Faro, 
where  the  current  sweeping  through  the  narrow 
straits  was  full  of  bewildering  purple,  blue,  and 
green  tints  like  a  piece  of  shot  silk.  We  passed 
a  fishing  boat  with  a  man  standing  on  a  stunted 
mast  above  his  fellows  at  the  oars,  on  the  lookout 
for  swordfish ;  above  boat  and  fishermen  towered 
the  crag  and  castle  of  Scylla.  To  the  left  the 
glass  showed  a  blur  of  green  —  was  it  a  new- 
leaved  fig  tree  —  a  descendant  of  the  tree 
Ulysses  clung  to  as  his  boat  slid  by  "  Scylla's 
dread  abode?  "  Why  not?  Sailor,  soldier, 
traveler,  king,  vagrants,  all  come  and  go;  the 
island  and  its  people  remain  unchanged.  I 
have  bought  in  a  market  of  Trinacria  the 
"  hardening  cheese  heaped  in  a  wicker  basket  " 

that  Ulysses  saw  the  Cyclops  make  from  the 

463 


SICILY   IN   SHADOW  AND    IN  SUN 

milk  of  his  sheep  and  goats.  I  have  heard  in 
the  oHve  groves  the  shepherd's  flute,  the  neat- 
herd's song  Theocritus  heard  and  preserved 
for  all  time  in  his  verse.  As  the  little  steamer 
churned  her  way  through  the  Tyrrhene  Sea, 
the  sun  set,  the  sky  flushed  and  faded  again, 
the  stars  came  out.  Little  by  little  the  lights 
on  the  shore  dwindled  to  mere  diamond  points, 
then  in  a  minute  they  were  gone,  and  with  them 
that  faint  perfume  of  the  lemon  and  orange 
blossoms  that  had  gone  along  with  us  while  the 
breeze  was  from  the  land. 

I  have  never  seen  the  wonder  island  again; 
what  remains  to  tell  of  the  American  work 
there,  must  be  told  by  others. 

Extracts  from  J.'s  Letters 

"  Zona  Case  Americane,  April  28,  1909. 
"  The  rush  is  increasing  every  minute.  I 
cannot  get  the  drawings  done  fast  enough  for 
the  carpenters  at  the  hotel,  and  the  sill  layers  are 
howling  for  ground  plans  of  the  schools.  I  have 
tried  to  do  all  these  things  and  get  some  sketch- 
ing done  for  myself.  In  the  latter  I  have 
pretty  well  failed,  —  you  see  I  have  got  hold 

of  a  live  wire  and  can't  let  go!  " 

464 


.JiS3^ 


AMERICAN  VILLAGE,  MESSINA.     HOTEL  IN  CONSTRUCTION.     Page  464. 


AMERICAN  VILLAGE.  MESSINA.     ENCLOSING  GANG  AT  WORK,     Page  438. 


GRAND  HOTEL  REGINA  ELENA  FROM  THE  RAILROAD.     Page  475. 


AMERICAN  VILLAGE,  MESSINA.     VIEW  FROM  THE  HOTEL. I    Page  475. 


MESSINA 

"  May  2,  1909. 
"  The  rush  has  been  growing  greater  every 
day;  it  has  been  impossible  to  find  a  minute 
save  in  the  evening,  when  I  have  taken  a  short 
walk  with  Brofferio  and  gone  to  bed  beaten  out, 
so  much  so  that  I  slept  through  one  of  the  worst 
earthquakes  from  all  accounts.  We  have  had 
.five  very  severe  ones  since  you  were  here,  two 
of  which  succeeded  each  other  within  a  few 
minutes  and  toppled  over  a  whole  lot  of  ruins 
along  the  Marina  so  that  it  was  blocked  again 
for  a  day  or  two.  I  heard  a  soldier  exclaim, 
'  Oh,  my  poor  dancing  land!  '  " 

"  May  25,  1909. 
"  I  am  sitting  on  the  sand  by  the  sea,  with 
the  wonderful  mountains  across  the  straits. 
There  is  a  delightful  breeze  blowing.  The  sea 
is  like  sapphire  and  emerald,  and  not  at  all 
beautiful  to  look  upon,  oh  no!  On  the  other 
side  of  me  looms  up  the  roof  of  the  hotel;  it's 
above  the  railroad  embankment  and  everything. 
It  is  covered  in  and  the  clapboards  are  being 
put  on.  Yesterday  was  Sunday.  Brofferio  got 
the  loan  of  a  Red  Cross  auto  and  we  had  a  mag- 
nificent spin,  —  the  captain,  Brofferio,  Buchanan 

465 


SICILY   IN  SHADOW  AND  IN  SUN 

and  I.     We  went  through  the  torrente  for  miles. 

I  find  that  nearly  all  of  them  can  be  used   as 

roads;    they  are  picturesque  to  a  degree.    An 

auto  is  the  greatest  thing  in  the  world  for  seeing 

the  country.     Next  Sunday,  I  believe  the  auto 

is  going  to  take  us  to  Taormina;   if  not,  Derby 

and  I  are  going  to  have  a  sail  with  Brofferio, 

which  we  should  enjoy  immensely.     All  your 

boys  you  have  sent  down  here  have  turned  out 

splendidly.     Brush  is  doing  finely  at  Reggio; 

I  don't  know  what  we  should  do  without  Mc- 

Goodwin.      He  came  in  when  everything   was 

decided,    and    has    cheerfully    taken    up    the 

hardest    job    in    the    world,   helping   to    carry 

out  other  people's  plans  when  all  the  fun  of 

making    them    is    over!      Rodolfo    Serrao    has 

become  quite  a  pet  with  every  one.     He  makes 

wonderful  caricatures,  and  has  made  them  of 

all  the  party.     I  am  keeping  all  I  can  get  to 

bring  back  to  you. 

*'  The  hospital  at  Regina  Elena  and  all  the 

houses  are  nearly  finished.    Here  the  hotel  will 

be  finished  as  far  as  we  are  concerned  in  a  few 

days,  and  the  church  and  schools.     There  are 

no  more  houses  being  put  up  just  now.    I  wish 

I  could  tell  you  how  many  houses  are  inhabited 

466 


MESSINA 

—  a  great  many  I  know.  The  workshop  op- 
posite the  camp  that  you  remember,  disap- 
peared long  ago  and  cottages  are  standing  on 
the  site,  so  we  are  all  shut  in  and  living  in  a 
common  street  called  Via  Bicknell.  There  is 
to  be  a  street  named  for  me  which  I  share  with 
the  captain.  The  captain  does  things  his  own 
way  and  he  says  the  plan  (which  I  have  drawn 
with  all  these  names)  is  the  record  of  the  thing 
that  will  be  sent  to  Washington,  but  even  there 
it  will  be  looked  at  once  and  then  thrown  aside." 

Extract  from   Captain   Belknap's   Journal,   and 
Letters  to  the  American  Ambassador 

"  With  a  large  increase  of  the  force,  and  at 
the  same  time  of  the  work,  especially  as  the 
hotel  began  to  assume  considerable  proportions, 
this  tallying  of  the  workmen  took  more  of  the 
head  carpenter's  time  than  could  be  spared. 
Opportunely,  Mr.  J.  Lloyd  Derby,  Harvard 
'08,  who  had  been  one  of  Mr.  Roosevelt's  guests 
in  the  party  visiting  Messina,  had  accepted 
the  invitation  to  join  us.  He  had  first  gone  back 
to  Rome,  with  the  two  chums  with  whom  he 
had  made  a  trip  around  the  world,  and  I  had 

almost  given  him  up,  when  he  telegraphed  that 

467 


SICILY   IN   SHADOW  AND   IN  SUN 

he  was  coming  and,  evidently  recalling  our 
previous  shift  to  find  accommodation  for  our 
guests,  should  he  bring  bedding?  I  replied  no, 
but  asked  him  to  call  at  the  Embassy  and  at 
the  '  Scorpion  '  at  Naples,  to  bring  anything 
they  might  have  to  send.  The  Embassy  en- 
trusted him  with  some  cigars  and  champagne, 
which  was  all  right;  but  the  '  Scorpion  '  pro- 
duced fifty  thousand  lire,  which  was  startling. 
However,  another  means  of  sending  the  money 
appeared,  and  Derby  arrived  with  his  other 
charge  safe.  He  stepped  right  in  as  Buchanan's 
assistant,  taking  over  Mr.  Phillips'  work  of 
tallying  the  men,  and  shortly  after,  as  he  found 
time  for  more,  he  was  made  the  inspector  of 
kitchens.  The  shop  made  him  a  measuring,  or 
*  divining  '  rod,  and  he  fared  forth  among  the 
masons,  who  soon  found  out  that  poor  work- 
manship was  no  match  for  his  muscle. 

"  We  were  fortunate  in  gaining  accessions 
to  our  managing  staff  just  when  it  would  seem 
impossible  to  carry  it  on  longer  without  more 
help.  The  first  one  was  Mr.  Gerome  Brush, 
son  of  the  painter,  whom  we  sent  to  Reggio 
just  as  Wilcox  was  finding  more  than  he  could 
attend  to  unaided.    As  interpreter,  accountant, 

468 


SCYLLA.     Page  463. 


MESSINA 

and  factotum,  Mr.  Brush  made  himself  in- 
valuable. Then  early  in  April  came  x\vvocato 
F.  Saverio  Donate,  who  had  been  in  Messina 
and  lived  in  our  camp  before,  as  Mr.  Bicknell's 
secretary.  He  was  a  faithful  and  untiring 
worker,  and,  with  Avvocato  Rodolfo  Serrao, 
son  of  the  former  Prefect  of  Rome  and  Messina, 
who  joined  about  the  first  of  May,  took  over 
entirely  the  harassing  duties  attendant  on  the 
assignment  of  the  houses  for  occupancy.  The 
last  to  join  the  camp  was  Mr.  R.  R.  McGoodwin, 
a  young  architect  who  was  studying  in  Rome. 
When  he  came,  we  had  already  begun  on  the 
hotel,  church,  school-houses,  laboratory,  and 
dormitory  at  Messina,  and  the  six-building 
hospital  group  at  Villaggio  Regina  Elena.  All 
these  were  on  the  lines  laid  out  by  Mr.  Elliott 
and  the  work  was  progressing  well ;  but  without 
complete  plans  —  w^hich  were  more  than  one 
man  could  accomplish  with  so  many  other 
things  to  do  —  questions  of  detail  were  con- 
tinually arising,  which  Mr.  McGoodwin  was 
able  in  large  measure  to  settle.  Mr.  Elliott, 
McGoodwin  and  I  made  the  traditional  three 
required  for  every  good  firm  of  architects;    but 

in  justice  to  them  it  must   be  said   that,   on 

469 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND  IN   SUN 

account  of  our  exceptional  circumstances,  I 
assumed  to  outvote  them  occasionally,  to  the 
detriment  of  artistic  effect. 

"  Two  English  ex-soldiers  applied  for  work 
about  the  same  time,  and  proved  good  hands, 
remaining  until  the  last  of  our  party  left." 

"  April  18,  1909. 

*'  An  urgent  request  having  come  from  the 
Genio  Civile  and  from  Mr.  Bowdoin,  for  a  man 
to  help  erect  the  portable  houses  at  Ali,  Mr. 
Dowling,  superintendent  carpenter,  was  sent 
to  Ali,  to  superintend  that  work,  and  assist  in 
any  way  he  could.  He  was  glad  to  have  the 
detail ;  Mr.  Bowdoin  writes  me  that  he  has  taken 
hold  well;  and  it  will  prevent  the  pieces  of  those 
portable  houses  from  being  mismated  and  so 
going  to  waste. 

"  In  general  since  you  left  here,  events  have 
been  thick  and  important." 

"April  26,  1909. 

'*  I  shall  reserve  the  cigars  and  champagne 

Derby    brought    for    an    appropriate    occasion, 

perhaps    to    celebrate    the   completion    of    the 

hospital,  or  of  the  work.     Of  the  cigars,  I  took 

one  box  over  to  Reggio  and  told  the  mess  there 

470 


MESSINA 

that  it  was  sent  with  your  compliments,  and 
did  the  same  with  the  other  box  here.  Thank 
you  also  for  the  newspaper  extracts  about  Mr. 
Roosevelt's  visit. 

"  The  past  two  weeks  have  been  very  full 
ones,  so  that  I  have  not  been  able  to  get  the 
time  necessary  to  draw  up  a  money  statement, 
but  that  I  hope  to  do  in  a  day  or  two.  All  or 
most  of  us  have  had  a  little  touch  of  stomach 
or  bowel  trouble,  rather  disturbing  to  work, 
due  to  flies  or  meat  probably;  but  now  all  of 
our  fly  screens  have  come  and  been  put  in 
place,  and  we  have  cut  the  meat  out  of  our 
bill  of  fare  almost  entirely,  so  that  I  hope  we 
may  get  on  without  any  further  sick  days. 

*'  The  food  question  really  gave  us  a  good 
deal  of  trouble  and  some  uneasiness,  as  soon 
as  the  supply  of  pork  loins  and  turkey  had  been 
consumed.  These  had  been  loaded  on  board 
the  '  Celtic  '  for  the  delectation  of  our  men  on 
board  of  the  world-circling  fleet;  but  we  en- 
joyed them  just  as  much,  as  they  certainly  did 
taste  good  after  a  long  day's  work  in  the  open. 
By  the  beginning  of  April,  however,  we  had  to 
depend  on  the  local  markets  for  meat.     Fish 

was  good  and  poultry  killed  in  the  camp  was 

471 


SICILY   IN  SHADOW  AND   IN  SUN 

safe  enough,  and  all  meat  offered  for  sale  bore 
the  stamp  of  inspection;  but  when  half  the 
table j^was  dining  on  soft-boiled  eggs,  something 
had  to  be  done,  and  we  could  not  quite  deter- 
mine what.  Dr.  Donelson  was  in  charge  of  our 
mess  and  of  sanitary  supervision  in  the  camp 
generally;  but  a  steady  stream  of  native 
patients,  from  early  until  late,  of  all  ages  and 
conditions  and  ailments,  left  him  little  time  to 
experiment  with  the  bill  of  fare.  Had  it  not 
been  for  the  spaghetti  family  of  dishes,  we 
might  have  been  in  a  bad  way.  Our  Sicilian 
cook's  repertoire  was  limited  too;  but  when 
the  Reggio  camp  was  broken  up,  we  took  on 
Baker,  ship's  cook,  who  immediately  gave  us 
a  change  and  some  familiar  dishes. 

*'  The  water  was  good,  and  we  found  that  we 
could  freely  use  it  without  boiling.  Our  supply 
was  so  convenient  for  the  neighbors  that  our 
one  outside  faucet  for  general  use  was,  in  fact, 
nearly  worn  out,  before  the  city  water  supply 
reached  our  camp. 

*'  Notwithstanding  indifferent  fare,  our  mess 

was  a  jolly  one.    Our  latest  accession,  Avvocato 

Serrao,  contributed  much  entertainment.     He 

was  a  talented  caricaturist  and  often,  during  the 

472 


VIA  BELKNAP,  AMERICAN  VILLAGE,  MESSINA.     Page  467. 


MESSINA 

course  of  the  day,  would  disappear  to  his  room 
for  a  while,  evidently  to  record  his  impressions 
pictorially.  Nearly  every  evening  he  would 
produce  one  or  two  caricatures  at  the  dinner 
table,  setting  forth  the  latest  camp  event.  Mr. 
Elliott  managed  to  capture  all  these,  —  some- 
times, unfortunately,  failing  to  do  so  before  they 
got  into  the  butter,  —  and  it  is  hoped  that 
some  day  we  msiy  have  them  all  reproduced. 

'*  One  evening  there  was  an  alarm  of  fire 
during  dinner,  and  every  one  rushed  to  the 
scene  with  whatever  water  receptacle  lay  nearest 
to  his  hand.  It  proved  to  be  not  smoke,  only 
the  dust  of  a  heated  domestic  argument;  but 
it  gave  Serrao  a  fine  opportunity  to  portray 
each  one  of  us.  Mr.  Elliott  was  always  repre- 
sented with  a  roll  of  the  hotel  drawings  in 
his  hand;  and  Dr.  Donelson  with  a  squalling 
baby  on  his  arm. 

"  For  our  beds,  or  bunks,  we  had  sea-grass 

mattresses,  of  the  kind  used  in  steamer  steerages, 

costing  forty  or  fifty  cents  apiece,  and  cheap 

cotton   blankets,   at  two  dollars   or  less  each. 

I  have  felt  softer  and  warmer  beds,  yet  we  soon 

get   accustomed    to   conditions;     and    the   fact 

that  we  lived  comfortably  in  our  ow^n  cottages 

473 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND   IN  SUN 

for  three  months,  is  a  good  proof  of  their  habita- 
bility.  There  were  some  leaky  roofs;  but  this 
is  a  fault  shared  by  some  more  expensive 
structures;  and  in  the  heat  of  the  day,  they  were 
hot,  as  all  unceiled  structures  must  be.  The 
ventilators  in  the  gable  ends  helped  this  much, 
but  of  course  the  best  remedy  was  to  ceil  the 
interior,  which  some  of  the  occupants  assigned 
to  the  houses  very  sensibly  proceeded  at  once 
to  do. 

"  Earthquakes  were  of  frequent,  almost  daily, 
occurrence.  A  severe  one  came  as  we  sat  at 
our  first  dinner  in  camp,  and  the  jar  and  loud 
rumbling  were  rather  startling,  though  we  had 
nothing  to  fear.  There  were  some  casualties 
in  the  city,  however,  and  our  Sicilian  servants 
were  frightened  and  anxious  for  the  safety  of 
their  families. 

"  In  the  middle  of  May  we  had  a  severe  shock 
about  9  o'clock,  our  little  frame  structures 
quivering  for  nearly  half  a  minute.  It  caused 
a  small  panic  among  our  workmen,  a  stream 
of  them  leaving  their  work  and  coming  to  the 
office  for  their  discharge,  saying  they  were 
not  going  to  work  in  Messina  any  more.     An 

hour  or  so  later,  one  of  the  engineers  passed 

474 


MESSINA 

by,  with  the  news  that  Palermo  was  destroyed. 
He  belonged  there  and  seemed  much  disturbed." 

"  May  10,  1909. 

"  So  far,  only  white  paint  has  been  put  on; 
yet  the  improvement  is  so  great  that  we  have 
great  difficulty  in  restraining  an  impatient 
populace  from  rushing  the  uncompleted  houses. 
When  the  green  trimmings  and  brick-colored 
base  go  on,  we  may  need  a  regiment.  The 
cottages  do  look  very  attractive,  especially  in 
many  places  where  they  are  nested  among  the 
trees;  and  there  is  nothing  anywhere  around 
that  can  touch  their  appearance.  The  white 
color  marks  them  out  from  a  good  distance. 

"  Our  other  work  at  Mosella  is  progressing 
well,  especially  the  hotel,  which  will  have  the 
second  story  begun  in  a  day  or  two.  It  is  a 
larger  building  than  any  one  had  thought  it 
was  going  to  be  and  has  aroused  a  good  deal 
of  interest.  It  is  being  well  constructed  through- 
out. 

"  After  much  consideration,  the  idea  has 
occurred  to  me  that  about  the  best  disposition 
to  make  of  our  camp  and  camp  outfit  here 
would  be  to  turn  the  whole  establishment  over 

475 


SICILY   IN   SHADOW   AND   IN   SUN 

to  the  Little  Sisters  of  the  Poor.  Yesterday  I 
sent  Mr.  Elliott  and  Mr.  Phillips,  head  car- 
penter here,  out  to  examine  their  former  build- 
ing, to  see  whether  we  could  do  anything  to 
help  them;  but  it  is  in  complete  ruin,  requiring 
to  be  rebuilt  from  the  ground  up  —  an  under- 
taking of  course  beyond  us.  They  still  have  the 
property  and  garden,  and  in  time  their  house 
could  be  rebuilt.  Meantime  if  they  want  this 
camp  and  its  equipment  as  a  temporary  dwelling, 
it  would  be  suitable  and  available.  I  know  of 
no  other  charitable  disposition  equally  good; 
and  as  the  Little  Sisters  are  indeed  poor,  it 
would  not  trouble  them  much  to  move  what 
little  they  own  in,  as  we  move  out.  Of  course 
all  we  take  will  be  our  personal  belongings,  and 
everything  else  —  bedding,  table  gear,  lamps, 
and  such  furniture  as  we  have,  would  be  theirs. 

"  One  of  the  houses  near  the  camp  has  a 
family  recently  moved  in,  in  direct  competition 
with  the  one  in  the  Queen's  house  in  Reggio, 
for  the  first  baby  born  in  an  American  house. 
I  shall  telegraph  the  arrival,  whether  it  occur 
here  or  at  Reggio. 

"  The  same  day  also  the  Pro-Sindaco  came, 

Commendatore  Martino,  who  expressed  much 

476 


ELIZABETH  GRISCOM  HOSPITAL.  VILLAGGIO  REGINA  ELENA.     Page  469. 


MESSINA 

satisfaction  with  all  he  saw.  and  was  very 
complimentary,  even  intimating  that  he  would 
become  a  siren  to  endeavor  to  retain  our  party 
here,  to  continue  such  energetic  work. 

"  In  fact  the  work  has  spread  so  since  you 
were  here  that  what  you  saw  is  comparatively 
insignificant.  Mr.  Derby  said  this  morning 
that,  remembering  how  comparatively  little 
there  was  when  he  was  here  in  April,  six  weeks 
ago,  he  can  hardly  realize  that  it  is  the  same 
place.  The  growth,  the  white  paint,  and  the 
clearing  up  of  the  streets,  have  made  a  complete 
transformation;  and  from  the  top  of  the  hotel 
one  gets  a  view  of  the  whole  settlements  that 
gives  an  idea  not  to  be  gained  in  any  other  way. 

"  At  Villaggio  Regina  Elena,  all  our  houses 
were  finished  on  Friday  afternoon ;  the  door  and 
window  hanging  and  the  kitchens  will  probably 
be  done  by  the  end  of  this  week;  and  a  contract 
has  been  given  to  another  painter  to  paint  them 
by  the  end  of  this  month.  The  job  has  been 
done  very  well  and  quickly,  and  when  the  white 
paint  is  on  the  appearance  will  be  all  that 
could  be  desired. 

"  The   foundation  for  the  main  buildings  of 

the    hospital    is    finished,    and    the    framing   is 

477 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND   IN  SUN 

beginning  today.  I  will  push  that  work  all 
possible,  so  that  we  may  leave  a  cleanly  finished 
set  of  buildings.  The  roofing,  foundation,  and 
plastering  will  each  cost  more  than  I  had 
estimated,  considerably;  and  the  hardware 
for  doors  and  windows  must  be  bought. 

"  Here  at  Messina,  we  are  on  the  last  week 
of  cottage  building,  all  houses  being  framed 
that  we  are  going  to  build.  I  have  told  the 
Prefect  that  I  would  leave  here  on  June  12th. 

"  As  the  houses  are  completed,  after  Mr. 
Derby  has  inspected  the  kitchens  and  passed 
them,  Lieutenant  Brofferio  and  Avvocato  Do- 
nate go  over  them,  note  whether  they  are 
ready  for  occupancy,  or  whether  some  minor 
repairs  are  needed,  and  then,  on  the  revised 
list  given  by  Brofferio,  I  report  to  the  Prefect 
that  the  houses  specified  are  ready  for  occupa- 
tion. After  the  Prefect's  Committee  have 
assigned  a  house,  the  applicant  brings  the 
written  authorization  here,  and  Donate  installs 
him,  or,  generally,  her. 

*'  The  new  aspect  of  the  settlement,  since  the 
painting  began,  and  the  towering  bulk  of  the 
hotel,  have  brought  a  steady  stream  of  visitors; 

and  on  Sunday  there  were  crowds,  all  over  the 

478 

\ 


MESSINA 

place  and  through  the  hotel.  These  conditions 
are  gratifying,  but  they  make  it  difficult  for 
us  to  remain  and  work;  so  that  the  date,  June 
12th,  must  be  regarded  as  definitely  fixed." 

Translation  of  an  inscription  on  a  visiting  card 
left  in  camp  office 

(Crown) 

"  Comjvi.  Luigi  Majolino 

"  Messina. 

"  Having  the  concession  for  the  American 
house  of  A-7,  No.  11,  —  before  occupying  it,  I 
feel  it  due  to  salute  the  Egregious  Doctor  Don- 
elson.  Commandant  Belknap,  Lieutenant  Bu- 
chanan, and  Sub-Lieutenant  Spofford,  who,  with 
love  and  self-sacrifice,  have  borne  in  among  us 
for  all  time  the  good  will  of  the  great  nation 
of  the  United  States  of  America. 

"  (Signed)  Luigi  Majolino. 

"  Our  last  Sunday  in  camp,  June  6th,  the  great 

Italian     national    festival,    was    celebrated    at 

Villaggio  Regina  Elena,  by  throwing  open  the 

bridge   which   had    been   jointly   built   by   the 

Italian    and    American    working   parties,    con- 

479 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND  IN  SUN 

necting  our  respective  quarters  in  the  village. 
A  very  festal  occasion  was  made  of  this,  the 
children  marching  around  the  village  in  pro- 
cession, guided  by  the  teachers  of  the  schools 
provided  for  them  by  the  Queen,  all  of  them 
dressed  in  clothes  made  in  the  village  laboratorio, 
and  waving  paper  flags  of 'all  sizes  and  nationali- 
ties, the  Stars  and  Stripes  being  prominent. 

"  On  the  day  of  departure  of  the  main  body 
from  Messina,  June  11,  I  gave  a  lunch  in  the 
dining-room  of  the  hotel  we  had  built,  to  which 
were  invited  Lieutenant-General  Del  Rosso, 
commanding  the  division,  with  his  brigadiers 
and  chief  of  staff.  Major  Andrea  Graziani 
(since  promoted  to  lieutenant-colonel,  for  ex- 
ceptional services  rendered  at  the  time  of  the 
earthquake),  the  new  Prefect,  Commendatore 
Buganza,  Pro-Sindaco  Commendatore  Martino, 
Captain  Pericoli,  the  senior  naval  officer,  repre- 
sentatives of  the  Genio  Civile,  other  officials  of 
the  Government,  our  own  party,  including  Mr. 
Bowdoin  and  Mr.  Wood,  from  Taormina,  and 
our  faithful  contractors,  Signor  Pella  and  Signor 
Saraconi,  the  painter.  In  all,  about  seventy 
persons  sat  down  to  a  horseshoe  table  built  for 

the  occasion.     The  room  was  freely  decorated 

480 


MESSINA 

with  flowers  and  green,  the  two  national  en- 
signs draped  together  at  the  head  of  the  table; 
and,  barring  a  rather  slow  service,  due  to  the 
fact  that  the  cooking  was  done  in  our  camp 
kitchens  four  hundred  yards  away,  this  first 
meal  in  the  hotel  was  a  success.  It  being  our 
last  in  Messina,  there  was  a  warm  interchange 
of  sentiments  of  the  most  friendly  nature,  the 
Prefect  saying  that  the  occasion  marked  the 
beginning  of  a  new  life  in  Messina,  and  the  Pro- 
Sindaco,  in  the  name  of  the  Municipal  Council, 
conferring  the  honorary  citizenship  of  Messina 
upon  Lieutenant  Buchanan,  Ensigns  Wilcox 
and  Spofford,  Dr.  Donelson,  Mr.  Elliott,  and 
myself.  When  I  rose  to  bid  them  farewell  and 
to  commend  to  their  kind  offices  Ensign  Spof- 
ford, who  was  remaining  behind  for  a  little 
while.  General  Del  Rosso  rose  and  stretched  his 
hand  across  the  table  to  Spofford,  saying: 
*  You   are  our  comrade.' 

"  The  main  body,  however,  left  Messina 
shortly  after  our  farewell  lunch,  by  the  five 
o'clock  ferry,  amid  a  popular  and  official  demon- 
stration that  will  never  be  forgotten  by  any  of 
us. 

"  What    our    American    party    built    in    the 

481 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND   IN  SUN 

earthquake  area  may  be  seen  in  the  following 
summary;  and  to  quote  some  of  the  things  said 
of  it,  a  translation  of  the  decree  of  honorary 
citizenship,  and  a  letter  lately  received  from  the 
Little  Sisters  of  the  Poor,  are  added. 

'*  Allowing  an  average  of  six  to  a  family, 
which  is  not  high  for  the  people  who  occupy 
our  cottages,  the  number  we  built  would  house 
twelve  thousand;  and  six  thousand  more  could 
be  provided  for  by  the  remaining  thousand 
for  which  material  was  provided. 

'*The  church  would  easily  hold  three  hundred 
or  three  hundred  and  fifty  people;  fifty  or  sixty 
sewing  women  or  other  people  could  work  in 
the  laboratorio,  comfortably;  and  seventy -five 
to  eighty  children  in  each  schoolhouse.  The 
laboratorio  and  schools  were  ceiled  and  plastered, 
and  built  on  concrete  foundations.  All  these 
large  buildings  are  permanent  structures,  and 
should  last  for  years. 

"  The  Hospital  Elizabeth  Griscom,  at  Villag- 
gio  Regina  Elena,  especially  is  a  worthy  group 
of  buildings,  based  on  a  substantial  concrete 
foundation,  strongly  framed,  and  well  finished, 
all  corners  rounded  in  the  wall  plastering,  tiled 

floors   in   the   surgical    rooms,    bathroom,    and 

482 


MESSINA 

kitchen,  and  roofed  jQrst  with  rubberoid,  then 
with  artificial  slate.  Painted  white,  with  red 
roof,  and  situated  high  up  on  the  hillside,  it 
stands  out  from  its  surroundings,  as  seen  from 
the  harbor,  most  attractively,  while  from  the 
windows  of  the  wards  of  the  hospital  itself  the 
view  is  unsurpassed. 

"  The  hotel  building  was  turned  over  to  the 
authorities  with  all  the  wood-working  part 
finished,  and  in  such  general  condition  that  a 
concessionaire  could  in  a  short  time  complete 
and  open  it.  The  form  is  a  wide  H,  the  central 
part  one  hundred  feet  long  by  thirty -two  wide, 
and  each  w^ng  one  hundred  and  thirty -two  feet 
by  thirty-two  feet  wide.  It  is  arranged  for 
seventy-five  bedrooms,  of  several  sizes,  and 
thirteen  or  fourteen  bathrooms,  so  grouped 
as  to  minimize  the  amount  of  branch  piping 
necessary.  Great  care  was  taken  with  the 
foundation  and  to  make  a  strongly  built  struc- 
ture; and  also  to  make  one  that  should  be  in 
some  degree  worthy  of  the  beautiful  site  on 
which  it  stands. 

"  Nothing  but  cottage-building  had  been 
contemplated  when  we  went  to  Messina,  and 

this  task  had  been  accomplished  at  the  rate  of 

483 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND  IN   SUN 

fifteen  cottages  built  for  every  day  we  spent 
there,  including  Sundays,  holidays,  and  days 
of  rain.  The  other  work  —  schools,  workroom, 
church,  hotel,  hospital  —  were  all  additional, 
their  undertaking  made  possible  by  the  allot- 
ment of  more  funds  by  the  American  Red  Cross. 

"  To  mark  the  givers,  each  house  completed 
bore  on  the  door  a  plate,  reading,  '  U  Italy  S, 
1909,'  or  '  American  Red  Cross  for  Italy,  1909/ 
These  were  placed  on  the  cottages,  in  the  pro- 
portion of  three  to  one,  which  was  about  the 
ratio  of  the  respective  expenditures  of  the  U.  S. 
Government  and  the  Red  Cross  for  this  par- 
ticular work,  —  roundly  $450,000  and  $150,000. 

"  As  nearly  as  could  be  figured,  the  whole  cost 
of  each  cottage  came  to  not  more  than  $235, 
of  which  about  $35  represented  the  cost  to  the 
Italian  Government." 

Thanks  from  the  Little  Sisters  of  the  Poor 

'*  To  the  Directing  Manager  and  Gentlemen  en- 
gaged in  the  erection  of  Barracks  at  Messina. 
"Gentlemen:  —  I,    the    undersigned,    Pro- 
vincial  Superior   of   the  Little   Sisters   of   the 
Poor,  having  been  apprised  of  your  approaching 

departure    from  Messina,  feel  it    my  duty  to 

484 


MESSINA 

thank  you  for  the  great  kindness  shown  to  our 
sisters  in  that  unfortunate  country;  no  words 
can  express  our  gratitude  for  the  noble  manner 
in  which  you  have  treated  us. 

"  We  have  every  reason  to  hope  that  our 
Home  will  be  soon  reopened,  as  it  is  the  desire 
of  our  Holy  Father,  Pius  X,  that  the  aged  poor 
should  be  taken  care  of. 

"  Gentlemen,  you  may  rest  assured  that  your 
benevolence  for  our  work  will  never,  never  be 
forgotten;  you  will  always  be  considered  as  our 
first  benefactors  and  our  prayers  and  the  prayers 
of  our  dear  poor  will  follow  you  everywhere.  If 
you  come  back  to  visit  this  desolated  country 
of  Messina,  we  hope  you  will  come  at  once  to 
see  us,  as  we  are  really  your  '  protegees.' 

*'  Receive,  Gentlemen,  my  most  grateful 
homage,  and  believe  me 

"  Your  most  humble  servant 

•  '*  In  Christ  our  Lord, 

"  St.  Aimee  de  la  Providence, 
"  Provinciale  des  Petites  S're.  des  Pauvres. 
"  Piazza  San  Pietro  in  Vincoli,  Roma. 
"  August  8th,  1909." 


485 


SICILY   IN  SHADOW  AND  IN  SUN 

COMMUNE   OF   MESSINA 

Date  June  9, 1909.  Extract  from  the  Deliberations  of 

Subject  the  Municipal  Council. 

Honorary  citizenship  The  year  nineteen  hundred  nine, 
of  the  Command-  the  ninth  day  of  the  month, 
ant  and  Officers  of  The  Municipal  Council  of  Mes- 
the  Navy  of  the  sina,  being  called  together  by  a 
United  States  of  notice  of  meeting,  sent  by  the 
America,  who  di-  Mayor,  dated  the  seventh  of  May, 
rected  the  construe-  convened  today  in  a  hall  of  the 
tion  of  the  American  Palazzo  Comunale,  with  the  follow- 
houses.  ing  present : 

1.  Commendatore  Antonio  Martino,  Mayor,  Presiding. 

2.  Avvocato  Auguste  Bette,  Alderman. 

3.  Cav.  Avvocato  Francesco  Martino,  Alderman. 

4.  Cav.  Ingegnere  Amilcare  Martinez,  Alderman. 

5.  Cav.  Ingegnere  Arturo  Leila,  Alderman. 

6.  Dottore  Orazio  Ciraolo,  Alderman. 

The  Secretary-General,  Avvocato  Giacomo  CrisafulH, 
assisted  at  the  meeting. 

The  President  at  1  o'clock  r.  m.  declared  the  session 
open. 

On  the  motion  of  the  President, 

The  Municipal  Council  considering  that,  in  the  tre- 
mendous disaster  of  the  28  December  et  seq.,  all  the 
civilized  nations  of  the  world,  sympathizing  in  the  distress 
of  the  surviving  Messinesi,  united  in  various  ways,  to 
relieve  and  mitigate  their  sufferings, 

considering  that  the  Republic  of  the  United  States  of 
America  chose  to  take  part  in  this  great  affirmation  of 
the  solidarity  of  humanity  by  means  of  enduring  works, 
namely,  by  the  construction  of  one  thousand  five  hundred 
houses,  for  the  shelter  of  a  good  portion  of  the  surviving 
population,  a  magnificent  hotel,  a  church,  and  three 
school  buildings; 

486 


MESSINA 

considering  that  this  new  proof  of  affection  furnished  by 
the  worthy  American  people  merits  being  signalized,  and 
that  a  tribute  is  due  in  equal  measure  to  those  also,  who, 
with  so  much  zeal  and  affection,  have  devoted  their  energy 
and  activity  to  this  work  for  several  months; 
convinced  in  consequence  that  the  executive  body  inter- 
prets the  voice  and  feeling  of  the  entire  populace,  in 
solemnly  expressing  the  most  sincere  sentiment  of  grati- 
tude, at  the  moment  in  which  the  gallant  officers  and 
sailors  of  the  glorious  American  Navy  are  leaving  these 
shores,  tried  by  suffering;  assuming  on  account  of  urgency, 
the  power  of  the  community,  the  Council,  by  unanimous 
vote 

DETERMINES 

a)  to  communicate  to  His  Excellency  the  President  of 
the  United  States  of  America,  through  His  Excellency  the 
Ambassador,  resident  at  Rome,  the  profound  gratitude 
of  the  surv  vors  of  Messina  for  this  proof  of  the  common 
bonds  of  humanity,  furnished  on  the  occasion  of  the 
tremendous  disaster  of  the  28  December. 

b)  to  confer  the  honorary  citizenship  of  Messina  upon 
Messrs. 

1)  Lieutenant  Commander  Reginald  Rowan  Belknap. 

2)  Lieutenant  Allen  Buchanan. 

3)  Ensign  John  W.  Wilcox. 

4)  Ensign  Robert  W.  Spofford. 

5)  Assistant  Surgeon  Martin  Donelson. 

6)  John  Elliott. 

c)  to  make  the  aforesaid  Commandant  Mr.  Belknap 
the  warmest  expression  of  appreciation  for  the  kindly 
care  with  which  he  assumed  a  difficult  undertaking,  and 
carried  through  an  extensive  and  complicated  work. 

d)  to  recognize  also  the  zealous  efforts,  effective  and 
harmonious,  of  the  other  officers  and  of  the  Engineer 

487 


SICILY  IN  SHADOW  AND  IN  SUN 

Elliott,   who  contributed   their  co-operation   to   such   a 
degree. 

After  being  read,  the  present  proceeding  is  approved 
and  signed. 

The  Mayor. 
(Signed)  A.  Martino. 
The  Senior  Assessor.  The  Secretary  General. 

(Signed)  A.  Martinez.  (Signed)  G.  Crisafulli. 

The  present  document  has  been  published  in  the 
pretorial  bulletin  of  this  Community  on  the  feast  day 
tenth  of  June,  and  no  objection  has  reached  this  Office. 

The  Secretary  General. 
(Signature)  G.  Crisafulli, 
The  present   copy   conforms   to   the   original,    and   is 
furnished  solely  and  exclusively  for  administrative  uses. 

At  the  Municipal  Residency,  the  11  June,  1909. 
Compared,  [seal] 

(Signature)  C.  Largaro. 

The  Secretary  General. 
(Signature)  G.  Crisafulli. 
Vise  The  Mayor. 

(Signature)  A.  Martino. 

On    their   way   to   the   ferry-boat  the  newly 

made  citizens  of  Messina  passed  through  the 

Piazza  del  Duomo  and  by  the  ruin  of  an  old 

Norman    cathedral,    whose    foundations    were 

laid  in  the  year  1098,  by  order  of  Roger  II. 

The   noble   central   doorway   is   still   standing; 

over  it  is  a  marble  bas-relief  of  the  Madonna. 

The  child  has  dropped  from  her  arms.     Then 

comes  a  great  rent,  for  the  upper  part  of  the 

488 


MESSINA 

facade  has  fallen.  The  mighty  columns  of  the 
nave  (they  once  upheld  the  roof  of  the  temple 
of  Poseidon  at  Faro  Point)  are  snapped  like 
pipestems.  Two  only  remain  upright  and  un- 
injured. The  high  altar,  a  marvel  of  jasper, 
chalcedony,  and  lapis-lazuli,  has  fallen,  broken 
into  a  thousand  pieces.  The  splendid  gold 
mosaics  of  the  apse,  so  hard  to  see  in  the 
old  days,  are  now  easily  visible.  In  the  cen- 
tral arch  over  the  ruined  altar  the  figure  of  the 
Christ  is  almost  intact.  From  the  rich  gloom 
of  the  mosaics  His  grave  face  looks  out  on  the 
ruins  of  Messina,  upon  His  world.  For  the  world 
has  never  been  so  truly  Christian  as  it  is  today; 
not  even  when  Richard  of  the  Lion  Heart 
wintered  in  Messina  on  his  way  to  Palestine  to 
fight  for  the  Holy  Sepulchre,  that  same  winter 
he  took  to  wife  the  lovely  Berengaria.  A  new 
name  is  added  to  the  long  list  of  those  who  have 
made  their  camp  beside  Charybdis,  opposite 
Scylla,  on  the  most  beautiful,  the  most  deadly 
coast  in  all  the  world  —  the  Americans,  who 
came  not  to  conquer  or  to  ravage,  but  to  help 
and  to  save.  The  little  boy  who  greeted  Captain 
Belknap   on   Easter   morning  with  the  words, 

"  Be  thou  blessed!"  expressed  the  general  senti- 

489 


SICILY  IN   SHADOW  AND   IN   SUN 

ment  of  the  Sicilians  towards  the  Ameri- 
cans. 

In  our  bustling  young  country  we  are  so 
busy  looking  forward  and  looking  backward 
that  we  sometimes  lose  sight  of  the  only  thing 
that  is  really  ours  to  make  or  to  mar  —  today. 
In  Sicily  there  is  more  time,  and,  in  the  years 
to  come,  the  old  men  and  old  women  of  Messina 
will  tell  the  tale,  hand  down  the  story  of  those 
latter-day  Crusaders,  Captain  Belknap  and  his 
men,  and  what  they  did  in  their  camp  beside 
the  Torrente  Zaera. 

There  was  a  certain  exaltation  in  all  the  people 
who  worked  for  Sicily  and  Calabria  that  seemed 
to  lift  them  above  the  smallnesses  of  every  day 
existence.  They  saw  each  other  transfigured, 
they  lived  the  heroic  life.  Each  was  eager  to 
do  the  other's  work,  —  all  were  quick  to  sacrifice 
themselves  to  the  others,  as  well  as  to  the  cause. 
It  was  a  time  when  men  and  women  seemed 
purged  of  meanness  and  jealousy.  Each  saw 
the  god  in  the  other.  There  was  hardly  a  dis- 
cordant note.  It  was  like  the  time  of  our  Civil 
War,  when  a  breath  of  heroism  passed  through 
the  country.     No  matter  what  might  follow 

of  discord  and  jealousy,  the  men  and  women 

490 


MESSINA 

who  passed  through  that  fire  of  sympathy  will 
never  again  be  quite  the  same.  All  their  lives 
they  will  yearn  for  the  glorified  vision  of  those 
days ;  their  eyes  will  never  quite  lose  the  keener 
insight  of  the  mysteries  they  then  attained. 


THE    END. 


491 


BJd 


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AA    000  858  405    4 


